


The One You Feed

by 29PiecesOfMe



Series: Angel Wings [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angel Wings, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Castiel Whump, Family Feels, Gen, Hallucinations, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Team as Family, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-12 13:04:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 61,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7104718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/29PiecesOfMe/pseuds/29PiecesOfMe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some scars never fade... Five months after Castiel escaped from Zachariah and the demons, he's slowly losing control. But that's only the beginning of problems for Team Free Will as someone is murdering potential angel vessels. As Cas battles demons within and without, he'll learn what it means to not just survive, but to overcome. So much whump… but plenty of H/C!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, all! :D This fic is a sequel to my other story, Where They Don't Belong. There will be several references to it, but I've tried to write this in a way that you don't necessarily have to have read that one first :) A few house-keeping items: number 1, I don't own SPN or any of the canon characters.
> 
> Number 2, this is set during season 5 as an AU, and there will be several times where actual dialogue is taken from the show and incorporated in :)
> 
> Huge thanks to Aini NuFire for the assistance.

Prologue

_An old chieftan was teaching his grandson about life. He said to his grandson, "There are two wolves that live in each of us. One is evil. It is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, and ego. The other is good. It is joy, peace, love, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. These two wolves battle daily, and sometimes the fight is very terrible."_

_The grandson looked at his grandfather in alarm, and asked, "But which wolf wins?"_

_The old Cherokee smiled and simply replied, "The one you feed."_

* * *

From the outside perspective, it probably looked like just another day in the life of a hunter.

A  _bad_ day in the life of a hunter.

Dean hit the ground hard, with no way of breaking his fall. The wind was knocked clear out of him, and he gasped for breath. If only his hands were free, at least he'd have a snowball's chance of defending himself! But they were bound tightly, lashed behind his back, and the ropes refused to give.

Already, he could feel blood dripping down his arms as he fought to get free, seeing his attacker storming over, reaching for him. Dean growled and tried to roll out of the way, but it was a futile act from the start. He shouted in pain as a hand grabbed hold of his short strands of hair, the other hand seizing his bound wrists and hoisting him up, ready to throw.

Shit, this was going to hurt…

The wall was absolutely solid, and when Dean crashed into it, he knew something had broken. His collarbone? Maybe a rib? He couldn't even pinpoint the site of the pain; it felt like his entire body was on fire! Dean groaned as he slid down to the floor. Again, he futilely looked for a way out, trying to crawl without the use of his hands out of the line of fire.

"Cas," Dean prayed in a whisper, needing the angel more than ever. If only his angel could come to his aid, but there was no answer. "Cas… please… Cas!"

With his hands tied behind him, of course, trying to crawl out of the way was basically a ludicrous idea. He was getting nowhere, and every movement made his broken – rib? Collarbone? – flare up even hotter in agony. For a moment, Dean forgot about himself, thanking the stars above that at least Sam wasn't here.

If he didn't get out of here – which it was looking more and more like he wouldn't – he was going to need Sam to finish what they'd started.

And he was going to need Sam to take care of Cas.

"Cas," Dean tried again, praying with all his might. He needed his friend, needed him  _now_. "Cas!"

God, he hurt all over.

Somewhere close by, Dean could hear Lucifer laughing quietly, enjoying the hunter's pain. Dean was certain his  _death_ would be even more enjoyable to the devil, and he took a minute to hope it didn't make Sammy or Cas do anything reckless.

Dean knew by now that there was no use praying, but he had no other options; it wasn't like he could fight back. "Cas," he prayed, hoping against hope that he could somehow reach the angel. "Cas, please… come on, Cas, damn it! Cas!"

Just as he'd thought: useless. Dean was out of time, his attacker standing over him now with a terrible expression that told Dean there was still more pain to come. The posture and positioning was threatening and fierce, as Dean's gaze rose to meet his attacker's.

He gulped. There was nothing in those eyes but blind rage. Furtively, Dean tugged at the ropes tying his hands, but once again they refused to yield. This was going to hurt…

"You have no right," his attacker hissed, looming over Dean as the hunter curled up slightly on the floor to try and present a smaller target and protect himself. "What you  _did_ to me…"

Pleadingly, Dean looked up at his attacker, shaking his head frantically.

"Cas,  _no_!" he yelled, though he knew the angel was far, far beyond reason or prayers. "Please,  _look_ at me! It's  _me_ , it's Dean!"

But the foot that connected ferociously with his stomach with the force of an angel, taking out another rib, proved that it was too late. There was no stopping Castiel now.


	2. When Darkness Comes to Claim You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So here we go! ^_^ To orient you, the story begins quite some time before the prologue takes place.
> 
> WARNINGS: There are some very dark themes that run through this fic. Please be aware up front that they're dealing with the aftermath of abuse, and tread carefully. Nothing sexual ever took place and therefore WILL NOT be described, but the intent of the abuse was to accomplish a very similar idea and it's not subtle.
> 
> With that out of the way, buckle up, my friends :)

 

"On your six, Sammy!"

"Got it! Dean, look out!"

Swinging around, Dean slashed out with the machete he was carrying, taking the head off the vampire behind him with one swift stroke. He cursed under his breath. This was getting exhausting, or he was just getting out of shape. This nest was bigger than they'd anticipated, and the windows of the barn were painted with black-out paint – the reduced visibility wasn't making this fight any easier.

"What the hell is taking him so long?!" Dean snapped, but Sam couldn't answer. At the moment, his windpipe was rather occupied with being crushed by another vamp. "Sammy!"

"Dean! Sam! Shield your eyes!"

The new voice rang out commandingly in the enclosed space. Both hunters obeyed immediately, squeezing their eyes tightly closed just in time for a blindingly fierce light to fill the darkened barn. All around them they heard the sound of screaming vampires, the unmistakable thud of heavy bodies collapsing to the straw-strewn wooden floor.

The chaos was followed by immediate silence, broken only by the heavy breathing of the two Winchesters. Slowly, first Dean and then Sam peeped an eye open, as though checking to make sure it was truly over. Their gaze was met by the familiar sight of their trench-coated angel, who nodded solemnly.

"Got 'em," he assured them with a touch of pride in his voice that made Sam and Dean grin.

"I'll say," agreed Dean, looking down at the dead bodies now decorating the floor. "What took you so long?!"

"More importantly," Sam added, rubbing his sore throat from where it had been grabbed, "did you get the leader?"

Castiel nodded, surveying the dead vampires that littered the barn. "Yes," he replied. "The leader of this nest is dead."

"And everything went alright? No… problems?" There was heavy significance in Dean's voice, laden with worry. The question, or else the tone that accompanied it, made Cas reveal just the slightest hint of impatience. It was just a touch of annoyance, a look of exasperation that flashed so fast across the angel's face that it might not have happened at all, before he quickly composed himself.

"No problems."

Dean knew that Cas was trying to be patient (and damn, he was getting better at reining in his temper). He knew that the angel didn't like being constantly asked if he was ok, but Dean had to make sure his friend was really doing alright. It had been five months now. Five months since the showdown with Zachariah. Five months since Castiel had been tortured, humiliated, and violated by his own brother. Five months since the demons had broken his wing.

Angel wings, as it turned out, were highly intimate. Not sexual, as Dean understood it, but intimate; the most intimate pieces of themselves, as their angel friend Terriel had once explained it. Zachariah had used this, forcing Castiel's wings to materialize, and then proceeding to touch him the way he had- no, Dean still couldn't really think about it.

Sexual or not sexual, rape was rape, and there was a  _reason_ Cas's flashbacks got so bad sometimes.

But that was done, Dean had to remind himself. It was over. Zachariah would never hurt Cas again. He'd never try to  _dominate_ Dean's best friend, never allow demons to use Castiel as a feathery plaything, never use  _Dean_ as leverage to force Castiel into submission.

God, he felt sick, he had to think of something else.

"Another nest bites the dust," Dean declared, a smirk playing across his face. "I think we've earned a drink and a night off."

"You mean, you wanna go the bar and hook up with that bartender," Sam instantly corrected him with an even broader smirk. Honestly, Dean was so transparent sometimes. Like how he was trying so hard to convince anyone at all that he was actually that carefree and unconcerned, as opposed to flooded with worry for Cas.

"Dude! She's  _hot_. Cas, come have a drink with us." Dean's arms draped themselves across Sam and Cas's shoulders – it was a bit of a stretch to reach Sam, of course. He was already leading the way towards the door, eager to get to the celebratory drink and romp. "Lucifer may be around the next corner so we might as well live it up!"

"Have there been rumors he's in the area?" Cas asked instantly, clearly concerned as he pulled away from Dean. The angel anxiously pulled out his angel blade, using one hand to push Sam and Dean back as he leaned around the door frame of the barn.

Evidently, he was taking Dean's words to heart, translating them literally as he so often did. The brothers traded a grin before Sam gestured for Cas to calm down.

"No, Cas, I doubt Lucifer is gonna spend the Apocalypse waiting for us to walk out of random barns. Seriously though, come have a drink with us, don't just run off."

Dean was right, of course. Neither of the Winchesters had  _any_ intention of saying yes to Michael or Lucifer, but there was no knowing how long it would take for one of the archangels to catch up with them. Might as well enjoy their small victory against the vampire nest.

It felt a little strange, going after such small fry while there were such huge things at play – namely, of course, the Apocalypse – but it was good for them to keep busy. It was good for  _Cas_ to keep busy. Not to mention, going after these monsters was a good outlet for the angel, and a way to keep his confidence up.

The angel had been staying with them the majority of the time, either at Bobby's or on the road on a hunt. It'd been three months since Terriel had healed his wings, and Cas occasionally took off to be alone. The brothers were both making conscious efforts to keep asking him to stay. They knew the angel was still struggling to deal with everything that had happened, and still worried that they might not  _really_ want him around… that he might not be as useful as he was when his grace had been fully powered. He had even thought, and hopefully knew better now, that they would be too ashamed of him after what Zachariah had done.

That was ridiculous, of course. Castiel was like a brother to them, and the hunters wanted him to stay, no matter what state his grace or his emotions might be in.

"I'd like having drinks with you," Cas agreed, sliding his angel blade back away (but still eyeing the corner of the door frame quite suspiciously, as though it might yet be hiding Lucifer. One could never tell).

"Now you're talking!" Dean grinned, once again taking the lead towards the Impala.

Both brothers were still exchanging their typical banter as they walked. Sam was teasing Dean for wanting to hook up with every young, female bartender he met, and Dean was retorting that if Sam didn't agree that this bartender was  _hot_ , it'd just prove that he was utterly gay. Sam was just tossing back an off-hand comment about his brother's bizarre adoration for Dr. Sexy, MD, when Dean turned around with a frown and then stopped in his tracks.

"Sam, stop," he growled, cutting Sam off.

"What?! Just because you know I'm right-"

"Sam,  _stop._  We lost Cas again."

That shut Sam up much faster, as he also turned around. Sure enough, the angel was still several paces behind, frozen solid.

"Damn it," sighed Dean, hurrying back to Cas and snapping his fingers in front of the angel's face a couple of times without so much as a twitch in response. "Sam, got the bottle? I hate it when this happens."

"Yeah, me too." Sam was already digging through the bag he carried, as Dean kept a worried eye on Castiel. "Hang on, I made sure to bring it."

By now, they had been through this enough times that they knew the drill. It was another flashback; Cas was lost in his own mind, trapped in a memory of the horrors he'd gone through at the hands of both demons and angels. They knew the signs by now.

Every time Cas went into a flashback, he started trembling, eyes wide and empty but for the horror that made the hunters ache. Most of the time, he'd start subtly shifting his shoulders, and they could almost hear, from the furthest edge of their hearing, the sound of desperately flapping wings.

 _Usually_ , he was silent… but sometimes, when it was  _really_ bad, he would start pleading with invisible assailants, begging for it to stop. Those were the times they knew it would be harder to snap him out of it.

Those were the times that made Sam and Dean feel physically sick, shaking them to their core all over again as they listened to their angel friend relive his most terrible nightmare, knowing it would never fully go away.

Today, though, he was silent, and the brothers knew what to do, through three months of trial and error. Standing in front of the angel, Sam called him loudly. "Cas! Look at me, look at  _me_ , Cas!" At the same time, Dean took the bottle of water that Sam had retrieved from his bag. He opened it up, then sent a huge splash straight at Cas's face.

It worked like a charm. Cas gasped and spluttered, shaken from the memories that haunted him. His eyes refocused on Sam as the hunter quickly said, "Flashback. It wasn't real. You're safe."

There was a pause, then Cas quietly murmured, "…Oh. Thank you." Another pause, and he added even quieter, "…Sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Dean brushed him off, trying to fight back his own alarm. "You don't have  _anything_ to be sorry for." They could both tell how ashamed the angel was, to still be having these flashbacks, but there was nothing to be done. Had he been attacked by angels only, perhaps this would have healed eventually, but the demonic touch to the angel's very soul could never, ever be erased.

This meant that the occasional flashbacks were a permanent, unpredictable part of their lives now.

It sucked, especially for Cas, who'd been tortured enough – but they were dealing.

* * *

Cas was quiet for the rest of the night. He went with the Winchesters to have their post-hunt drinks, as he'd said he would, but the angel felt like he was just bringing the mood of the group down. Of course, Dean didn't stay for long; he left with the bartender after only three or four drinks, leaving Cas with Sam.

"So, Cas." There was no question where Sam was about to take the conversation, but Castiel didn't snap at him. In truth, though he hated to be a burden, sometimes it felt good to be able to talk to Sam. Castiel had an intensely strong bond with Dean, of course, but they all knew Sam was easier to talk to when it came to feelings. Dean meant well, but sensitivity wasn't one of his defining characteristics and it was all too obvious how awkward those talks made him feel.

"I'm sorry," Cas murmured, sighing. "I can't control the flashbacks."

"Hey, seriously dude, don't apologize. We've all got baggage. And I mean, me and Dean, we're gonna help out however we can. And it's worked out a lot better now that we know how to snap you out of it."

That had taken a bit of time and some catastrophically disastrous methods first. For instance, they knew now to stay  _well_  back from Castiel when he was in a flashback. A panicked attempt to physically shake the angel out of it had ended with Dean getting thrown across the room. The poor coffee table he'd crashed into had not survived the encounter, and they never tried to touch him when in the middle of a flashback again.

Cas marveled at how insistently they'd told him to stay after that when they would have had every right to just wish him gone. After being cast out of his own family, it was a true relief to have a new one with Dean and Sam.

"I know," Castiel answered Sam now, looking up to meet the hunter's eyes. He remembered how long it had taken him just to be able to make eye contact with them again, after Zachariah's torture. "Honestly, I… don't think I would have made it without you two. After everything…"

Sam grinned, raising his glass in a toast. Cas returned the gesture, as Sam pointed out, "That's what family is for. How many times have you saved  _our_ bacon?"

"Has something happened to your bacon?" Castiel was highly concerned. He still didn't physically  _have_ to eat, though it was enjoyable to do so on occasion. He'd tasted bacon. It was delicious. He hadn't realized they needed to save it, but he certainly would.

The only response he got was an amused laugh, and Cas regarded Sam before nodding wisely. "Ah… that's another of your strange colloquialisms, isn't it?"

"…Yeah, Cas. It is."

He was still getting the hang of the odd little expressions that his favorite humans used now and then. They seemed to enjoy it when he got something wrong, though, so the angel wasn't making all that concerted of an effort to figure it out.

"Anyway," Sam went on, after draining his glass and setting it down. "You ready for another round yet?"

Castiel nodded, moving his own chair back and standing up. As an angel, he could tolerate massive amounts of alcohol before he felt a thing, so he could keep up with the boys on their drinking nights. It was actually kind of fun; it made the angel feel like he belonged, to share that time with them.

"I'll get them," he offered so Sam could relax for a while. He adjusted his trench coat, heading back up to the bar with his mind turning over and over.

The longer they stayed out tonight, the happier he would be. Castiel tried not to be selfish; he knew that Sam and Dean needed sleep, being humans.

That meant, of course, that he spent his own nights alone, left with just his own thoughts and broodings for company. There was no one to pull him from the flashbacks when he was alone at night. There was no one to remind him that he'd already killed Zachariah, that the demons who'd attacked him and broken his wing were already dead.

The nights were the worst.

Castiel reached into his pocket, feeling the smooth, well-worn piece of paper he kept with him at all times. It gave him comfort, and the angel tried to put everything from his mind. He was out "on the town", as the Winchesters said, which was perfectly silly. How could they be  _on_ the town?  _In_ town, perhaps, but not  _on_ it.

Regardless, he was trying to enjoy himself, and see to it that he didn't drag Sam down, after everything the hunters had done for him.

"Two beers," Castiel told the bartender, who nodded and ducked down behind the counter to pull a couple more bottles out. While he did, Castiel glanced up vaguely at the TV playing over the bar, some news story about a homicide that had taken place not too far from there.

Homicide was unfortunately not a rarity on Earth, and Castiel wouldn't have thought twice about it, but for the name that was plastered at the bottom of the screen – the victim's name.

Castiel frowned, taking a step towards the TV and peering up at it with much more intensity now. "Wait a minute…" he murmured out loud, staring at the picture of the dead victim. "No, that can't be right."

But there was really no mistaking it, no way of misunderstanding a murder. But if this story was true…

…Something was wrong.

Something was very, very wrong.


	3. And Nightmares Fill Your Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings still apply. If you're in a place where reading blatant abuse is a bad trigger for you, please skip the italicized portions.

Castiel was still staring at the TV, ignoring the two beer bottles that the bartender had placed in front of him, when he heard Sam's voice.

"Dude, did you get lost?"

"Sam, something's-" Castiel began as he turned back to the human, but he paused when he saw the anxiety hidden in Sam's eyes. Cas's gaze dropped to the hunter's hand, and he saw that Sam was clutching the water bottle normally tucked away in their bag in case of flashbacks.

He'd worried Sam by staying up here too long. Castiel wrestled back a flare of annoyance that his friends were keeping  _that_ tight of a watch, reminding himself that it was done out of genuine concern. Sam didn't deserve his anger.

"I- sorry," Sam quickly apologized, lowering the water bottle guiltily. He was always the more perceptive of the two Winchesters, and seemed to realize that Cas didn't like it when they fretted over him constantly. "Just….. uh….."

"I'm fine," Cas assured him with minimal exasperation. Then, he frowned. "But something  _is_ wrong." He gestured to the TV, where the reporter was still talking about the harrowing murder of Gina Norman. Sam looked up at the screen, eyes narrowing to focus.

"Hm. She was pretty," he pointed out sorrowfully, quickly reading the headline and soaking in the news. Beside him, Cas tensed and closed his eyes.

 _"Pretty, pretty wings…"_ The demons' voices permeated his mind, and Castiel's hand flew up to his forehead, palm pressing firmly against his skull. He didn't need this right now, he needed to focus on Gina Norman, and  _not_ losing himself here among all these humans after he'd just told Sam he was fine.

Fortunately, the hunter was engrossed in the story, but he turned to Castiel now with a shrug and a frown. "I don't recognize her, who is she?" he asked.

"Gina Norman," replied Cas, lowering his hand before Sam decided to ask him again what was wrong. "She's a vessel. Was."

"You mean they killed an angel?!" Sam gasped, whipping back around to glue his eyes to the screen again, as though he'd catch the telltale wing marks scorched into the ground. There were none there, though, and Castiel was already shaking his head.

"A  _vessel_ ," he repeated. "Only the vessel. She contained no angel – yet."

"Oh. You mean, like Jimmy."

Cas nodded affirmative, but his troubled expression never left his face. "Yes, like Jimmy. She's quite strong. She was meant to be a vessel for Nathaniel, a very powerful angel. But I don't understand. This isn't right. She shouldn't be dead."

"Well… Cas, I mean… these things happen. I don't-"

"Sam," Castiel interrupted him in exasperation. Quickly, he grabbed the bottles of beer in one hand, and Sam's elbow in the other, steering him back to their booth. He didn't want to have this conversation where just anyone could hear, even if most people in the bar wouldn't have a clue what they were talking about. "Yes, people die, I understand that. I've been here for much longer than you."

"Whoa, I know that, I was just saying-"

"This isn't the first vessel to be killed within a  _week_. I saw another story on your news only four days ago of another vessel's murder. Not death,  _murder_. And the week before, another. I brushed it off, believing it must be a coincidence. But three in a row? And  _Nathaniel's_  vessel? Sam, something's wrong, I  _know_ it."

"Ok, look… calm down. If something's wrong, then we'll just have to figure out what's going on, and stop it, right? We'll figure this out, Cas."

The angel nodded, too worried now to respond. He really wanted to leave, right then and there, and start figuring this out; but Sam and Dean (whenever he got back from his romp) would need sleep first. Even Castiel grew tired more than he had before being cut off from Heaven; he couldn't stay on the move indefinitely. He didn't sleep, but he did need to at least rest.

If only rest would actually come.

Back at the hotel, Castiel stood at the window and stared out of it while Sam showered away the day's hunt. He was deep in thought, brooding over this disturbing development. The demons were getting clever, to attack an angel's vessel before an angel resided in it. Angels  _could_ take any vessel, but if it wasn't the one who had been more or less chosen for them, it would never last.

That was why Lucifer was burning through Nick so quickly. Nick was a vessel, but he wasn't  _Lucifer's_ vessel; he couldn't contain him.

There was just one problem with all of this: demons wouldn't know who the vessels were. Only angels knew their identities, and most had been chosen long after Lucifer's fall.

"Hey, Cas, I'm gonna get a few hours sleep," Sam interrupted Cas's thoughts now, walking out of the bathroom and scrubbing his damp hair with a towel. "But if you wake me up when Dean gets back, he can sleep while we try to figure this out."

It was tempting – it would mean Castiel was only alone for half the night. But, he knew Sam had only made the offer with that very idea in mind, to sit up with Cas. He needed the sleep, though, and Castiel didn't want to burden him. It shouldn't be down to Sam and Dean to take care of him; Castiel needed to be able to stand on his own two feet.

"No," he answered firmly. "Get some sleep. I'll be fine."

Sam hesitated, then quietly asked, "Got the note?"

Castiel patted his pocket, sliding a hand inside again to brush the worn edges of the smooth page. He nodded as reassuringly as he could, but Sam still looked unhappy about going to sleep. The angel could tell the hunter was about to volunteer to stay up all night, and he quickly squashed that.

"Get some sleep, Sam," he all but commanded. "You need the rest."

"Ok… but… seriously, wake me up if you… you know, need to. I don't mind."

"Of course." But they both knew he wouldn't.

Instead, Castiel sat down in the chair by the window as Sam tossed the towel into the bathroom and collapsed onto the bed. His head was buried in the pillow in seconds as the hunter stretched out on his stomach, and Castiel knew he was probably asleep immediately.

Now, the angel was left to rest as much as he could, and try like mad to avoid brooding. Nothing would throw him into a flashback faster than brooding, but in the quiet night with nothing but the rhythmic sound of Sam's steady breaths, it was almost impossible. His thoughts wandered, taking him once again to the angels and demons who'd held him down and attacked him. The physical wounds had healed, thanks to Terriel - the only angel who had stood up for him - but the true scars were so much deeper.

Castiel closed his eyes, trying to shut out the images, but all this did was heighten the sensation of hands caressing his wings.

It was not a soothing or comforting sensation; it was disgusting, intruding, violating. No one had any business touching his wings like this, but he couldn't shake the feeling. That sensation alone was enough to trigger the flashbacks; he could never predict when one would sneak up on him.

"Stop it," Castiel muttered out loud, opening his eyes again as he twitched his shoulders. "Just let me forget for  _one_ night…"

He shuddered, gasping sharply as he  _felt_ a harsh hand glide down the feathered ridge of one wing. They weren't there. It was only because the demons' touch had been imprinted on his soul, months before. It wasn't real.

But it  _felt_ real, and when Castiel closed his eyes again, he could see the whole thing.

_He was in the angel prison, an old building in the middle of nowhere that was set up to contain disobedient angels until they were taken back to Heaven. Though there were normally angels there to guard the prisoners, they had been dismissed. It was just Castiel and Zachariah, and Castiel had been chained down to kneel on the floor with his hands locked down. Sigils on the manacles prevented him from using his grace._

_Zachariah stood over him, a towering, terrifying presence even if Castiel HADN'T known what was coming._

_But he did know._

_No, this wasn't real. It wasn't. But Zachariah stretched out his hand anyway, saying the spell that would reveal Castiel's wings. An angel's wings were intimate; Zachariah had no business laying hands on them, and Castiel wanted to vomit. This was his own brother. His BROTHER, whom he had trusted, who was touching him now._

_No. NO, it was just a flashback! This WASN'T REAL!_

With a massive effort, Castiel wrenched himself back to reality, shooting up in the chair and gasping quietly for breath. His eyes were wide, body shaking, and there was sweat forming around his temples. Even with so short a flashback, he was already disoriented, no longer certain of what was real and what was not.

 _Check your pockets_. It was the first thing he did after coming out of flashbacks now, if Dean or Sam wasn't around. The angel's hand flew to his pocket, frantically digging out the piece of paper with the worn edges and unfolding it.

 _You're safe_ , the note said in Dean's uneven handwriting.  _You already ganked Zachariah like the badass you are and I took out the demons and Sam killed that other angel dick. They're gone, it's over. I promise. –Dean and Sam_

Yes… all the ones who had laid hands on his wings were already dead. They were dead, he was safe. That was right. It was just a flashback, brought on by the corrosive demonic touch to his soul, that wouldn't let him free.

He was dealing with it.

Castiel got up, pacing the hotel room with unquenchable anxiety that always accompanied these excursions from reality. It was highly unlikely that he was going to make it the rest of the night without another flashback – or worse – but he refused to wake Sam, who was still sleeping soundly. He could handle this. He'd been handling it for months, he could handle one more night.

Every night, it was just  _one more night_ that he had to handle. As long as he didn't feed the darkness that seemed constantly poised to claim him, he would be fine. As long as he didn't give in to the despair, the anger, the need to explode in violent rage because of what they'd done to him, he'd be ok.

How much longer until morning? Cas glanced at the clock beside Sam's bed, seeing that he'd lost time in the last flashback. What had seemed like only a few moments had in fact been almost an hour. Maybe Dean would get back soon – but then again, Dean would also need sleep. If he was out engaging in sexual intercourse with women, then he wasn't getting the rest he would need.

Cas's mind began to drift, calming slightly, keeping it together as he sat back down. The demons were dead. Zachariah was dead. Josiah and Domiel, the other two angels who had assaulted him, were dead. He was safe. Again, Castiel pulled the note out of his pocket, reading the words once again; they were gone, it was over.

Only, it would never  _really_ be over, and before long the hotel room had faded without Castiel even being aware of it until he realized that he couldn't move his hands.

_"No!" he gasped, looking up in dismay to see chains biting into his wrists, keeping his arms up over his head. The angel pulled frantically, but the chains were warded and strong. He was trapped. Zachariah was long gone, it was just the demons with him now. They had taken him from his new human family, taken him to Hell - Dean and Sam would never find him here._

_"Well, well, well…" murmured a low, cruelly amused voice. A black-eyed demon prowled in front of Castiel, smiling in delight. "Looks like it's my lucky day, sweetheart."_

_His wings were exposed, and Cas gasped again as his head whipped one way and then another to see his own wings stretched outwards. They were mostly white, flecked with the soft grey and brown of a snow owl… and stained with blood. Cas cried out loud in pain as he realized the wings were tethered at the "elbow" joint by meat hooks to keep them spread out. It hurt… it hurt so badly._

_"Just you and me, and I get the all the time in the world to play with you," the demon breathed into Cas's ear, walking around behind him as his rough hand stroked across the feathers. The touch was so terrible, so unbelievably vile. Castiel was shaking, groaning in revulsion and horror as a second demon walked in front of him with a menacing smile._

_The angel had a very limited notion of personal space himself, so it wasn't the fact that the demon was standing right in his face that bothered him. It was that he was sandwiched between the two, and they were both petting his tethered wings, with taunts of keeping him there for eternity, their pet angel._

_"Get away from me!" Castiel demanded, but he couldn't move. His heart was pounding with despair, no way of escaping them or their groping hands. He turned his head, eyes clenched tight. "Please… please, no…"_

_They ignored him, going right ahead and sinking their hands into his wings and stroking, touching, fondling. Cas whispered another shaky "please", but in the end could do nothing but quietly sob. They were demons. They weren't going to stop. They were never going to stop. It went on, and on, and on, one in front, one behind. The angel felt more sickened, more powerless, with every passing moment, until he lost track of how many moments had passed by._

_"Cas," one of them whispered in his ear – no, not whispered. It was yelling. "Cas! CAS! WAKE UP! Cas, look at me, LOOK AT ME!"_

_The other one was yelling now, too, sounding upset and afraid. "Cas, please, please wake up, it's us! You're safe, whatever you're seeing isn't real!"_

_What were they talking about? Castiel was so confused, and then he felt something cold and wet splashing across his face, drenching him._

"CAS! You son of a bitch, don't do this to me, WAKE UP, damn it!"

Castiel gasped out loud, eyes wide open as he scrambled backwards, falling off the chair and onto the floor with a thud. He was panting, breaths fast and uneven, and he was aware that he was trembling. A few feet away, eyes also huge, were Sam and Dean. Both seemed distraught, watching him anxiously, but Castiel was too disoriented to help them. Where were the demons?! They'd had him, they were never going to let him go, he would be trapped there forever for them to torment whenever they pleased…

"Cas?" Sam asked him anxiously, a flicker of guilt racing through his eyes. "It was just a flashback, you're safe. You're here with us, you're safe. Shit, I knew I should have stayed up-"

"No," interrupted Castiel, turning his head to look away as his cheeks reddened.

No, Sam  _shouldn't_  have stayed up... and no, it hadn't been a flashback. Not that time. The flashbacks were merciful compared to what that had been. Castiel hadn't told the Winchesters, not wanting to worry them, that occasionally the memories would progress to full on hallucinations. The difference was that while the flashbacks were confined to memories of what had actually happened, the hallucinations could deviate to… well, just about anything. Always the same situation, but with new details, new horrors, and  _those_ were the ones that were harder for him to wake from.

Worst of all, there was no way to stop them from happening. The angel had a permanent trigger, from the moment they'd first laid hands on him.

 _That_ had been a hallucination. The demons had never taken him to Hell; he'd only been there once, to rescue Dean, and he'd been too fast for them to catch. It was just a hallucination, just a black evil that was toying with his mind as cruelly as the demons had toyed with his wings. Everything was coming back to him now. He knew where he was, and he knew that the Winchesters shouldn't  _have_ to stay up with him like he was a child afraid of the dark. It was embarrassing enough to keep having these meltdowns in front of them  _without_ that.

"Damn it, Cas," gasped Dean, his voice tight and clipped. "Why didn't you  _call_ me? You  _idiot_ , next time  _call me_!"

"Dean, there's no way of knowing when it's going to happ-" Sam started to defend the angel, but Dean cut him off.

"We  _do_ know it's been happening almost every other night! It's getting worse, isn't it, Cas?! You should have called me home!"

"I don't need a babysitter," Castiel snapped back. Usually, he could put a lid on his temper, but this latest hallucination  _had_ been worse, and that had him on edge. Unfortunately, it had Dean on edge as well, and when their tempers collided, it tended to escalate.

Sam was already stepping forward with his hand up, looking warily between the two, as Dean yelled,

"It's not about being a damn babysitter, it's about being here for you when you get stuck in these, you idiot! I shouldn't have left tonight, or Sam should have stayed up-"

"No, he shouldn't have!" snarled Cas. "You two are  _not_ going to get stuck  _taking care of me_  instead of living your own lives! Stop treating me like I can't be left alone!"

"Well, clearly you  _can't_! Do you  _know_  how long it took us to snap you out of it this time?!"

That was it. Castiel's nerves were frayed completely, and his eyes were smoldering as he drew himself up, on his feet again. If Dean didn't stop constantly treating him like he was going to break, the angel actually  _would_  break. Yes, it was done in the spirit of family and genuine friendship; and yes, Dean was just acting out because of how much Cas had scared him; and yes, the angel was lucky that the Winchesters  _had_ been there to pull him out of it.

But it wasn't like he hadn't survived these hallucinations on his own before, and besides… Castiel wasn't in the frame of mind to be patient.

"Dean, leave me alone," he growled in warning, holding a hand out as though to ward the human off as he turned his back.

"No, damn it, I won't!"

"Dean! I said,  _leave me alone!_ "

Castiel whipped around, yelling at his friend. As he did, the angel felt a sudden surge of energy, racing from his heart and through his shoulders. Dean and Sam came to a dead halt, staring at him with huge eyes – staring above and behind him with huge eyes. Their mouths gaped open, and Cas realized suddenly that his ripped shirt was hanging loosely on him, and his trench coat was bunched up uncomfortably behind his head… pushed out of the way by massive wings.

His wings. They had materialized. Cas hadn't done it, hadn't intended to bring them out, yet there they were, feathers flared in an aggressive wing display in his anger.

The angel's eyes widened, and he quickly pulled his wings back, shifting them back out of the physical plane as quickly as they'd come. All his frustration drained away in the wake of shock, pure and unadulterated, and frightened confusion. He hadn't done that. Why had his wings materialized? He  _hadn't done that_.

All three of them were frozen, staring at each other, as Dean voiced all three of their thoughts aloud:

"What… the… hell?"


	4. The Devil Whispers Softly

Dean blinked, then glared at Sam. "Great, now he's gone again," the hunter snapped, gesturing to where Cas had been standing only a second before. "That's just great."

"I… think he may be a little freaked," Sam pointed out, sinking slowly down onto the bed. "What just happened?"

"How the hell do I know?" Dean was still on edge, starting to pace the same trail that Cas had taken around the room earlier that night. "Why'd he pull his wings out?" Without waiting for an answer, he looked up and yelled, "Cas! Cas, get back here, come on!"

There was no answer, though, which was more or less what Dean had expected. That wasn't about to stop him from trying, though. "Damn it, Cas! Get your feathery ass back in here!" The hunter glared at his brother again, demanding, "Seriously, what the hell was that?"

"Dean, I don't think he meant to. Did you see his face? He was as surprised as we were."

"Yeah, but he's  _never_ done that before! Sammy, what if this is some… some demon effect thing!? It's getting worse, what are we gonna do if-"

"Ok, Dean, sit down and  _chill_." There was a firm edge to Sam's voice, but instead of snapping at him, Dean sank onto the chair Cas had vacated and leaned his head forward. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to calm down, but  _damn it_ , when was Cas going to catch a break?! The angel was suffering enough as it was…

…and every time Castiel ran off like this, Dean couldn't shake the desperate fear that he just wouldn't come back.

Dean took a few breaths, as Sam stood quietly by. After a moment, the younger hunter went on, "You know, walking on eggshells around him isn't gonna help him. No, before you say anything, I hate seeing it, too. But, Dean… haven't you seen how irritated he gets when we keep asking him if he's ok? How's he supposed to deal with it if  _we_ aren't dealing with it?"

Dean glared at his brother. This wasn't the time to get all psychological. "Ok, Mr. Feelings, so whaddya suggest, we just pretend nothing's wrong? Not even care enough to check on him?"

Instead of getting riled at Dean's antagonism, Sam shook his head calmly. "That's not what I'm saying. Just don't act like he's always falling apart. He's actually doing pretty good, all things considered. Look, we'll be there to pull him out of it, but otherwise, treat him like the fighter he is. I just get the impression he reallydoesn't like being babied."

"Oh, so now I'm babying him?!"

"We bothhave been, Dean."

Damn it, Sammy's patience could irritate Dean sometimes. He was stressed and honestly sort of looking for a fight, but Sam was all cool-headedness and logic, and Dean couldn't find anything to argue with. He was just worried about Cas, and now the angel had flown off again. He could be  _anywhere_ , and there was no saying when he would come back.

As though reading his mind, Sam sighed. "He'll be back," he reassured Dean. "Meanwhile, I should fill you in on this…"

Dean listened as Sam told him about the murdered vessel, and how Cas believed there was something more going on. The hunter agreed with Cas - three couldn't be a coincidence. These things were  _never_ a coincidence. When Sammy was done, he grimaced. "But can't the angels just bring 'em back to life anyway?" he pointed out.

"It's really not that simple, you know."

Both Winchesters turned around as a more composed Castiel flew back in to join them once more. He still looked a bit on the frazzled side, but his gaze was steady now, wings definitely not visible. He'd put himself back together again, shirt and coat in place. Dean stepped towards him instantly, almost toppling over from his relieved haste to reach his friend.

"Cas! You're back! Dude, what just happened?" Screw this not-asking-Cas-if-he-was-ok. The angel had been freaked, and Dean wanted to know what the hell was going on, and just how worried they should be about it.

The only response was a glare from Cas, though, as the angel stubbornly ignored the question and went on with what he'd been saying.

"It takes massive amounts of energy to resurrect a soul, once they've crossed over. Zachariah threatened you with death because they  _need_ you and were willing to waste the time to put you back, but it's just not feasible to bring  _every_  vessel back. That," he added, "and I think Zachariah just really wanted the gratification of killing you at least once."

Dean blinked, unsure whether to be insulted or not. Either way, that wasn't the important thing. Cas was deliberately ignoring his question, and the hunter snapped, "So, what, we're just gonna pretend that didn't even happen? Cas, you didn't even mean to do that, did you. Did you?"

Castiel's glare deepened, and then he turned his back on Dean entirely to address Sam instead. "This is why, of course, there were several votes to kill you before Lucifer could take possession. Destroy his vessel and he'd have to make do with a weaker one."

"Yeah, Cas… that… doesn't make me feel better," Sam pointed out dryly.

"If it's any comfort, I voted against the idea."

"Cas!" Dean snapped, interrupting them before Castiel could find some other excuse to  _not_  answer the question. "I want some answers!"

"So do I, Dean!" Castiel growled back at him, tension evident in his rigid posture. "I don't know what happened, so there's nothing to discuss!  _When_ I get some answers, I will let you know! Alright?"

Dean was about to argue, but Sam cleared his throat loudly, giving him a pointed Look.  _Cas doesn't like being babied_ , the Look said.  _Treat him like the fighter he is. Treating him like he's falling apart just irritates him._

Fine. Hell, if there was one thing Dean understood, it was that sometimes, a guy just had to deal with his own crap. Ironic, really, that  _Sammy_ was the one trying to steer him away from the "share and care".

But whatever. They'd deal with the mysteriously appearing wings later, because the hunter couldn't just forgetthat Cas had somehow accidentally manifested his wings, the one thing he was most sensitive about. For now, though, Dean changed gears with quite a bit of effort.

"Fine. Where do we even start figuring out who's ganking vessels?"

A surprised look flashed across Castiel's face, shocked that Dean was actually dropping the matter, but it was soon replaced by a brief, grateful half-smile, and then the angel was down to business.

"We need to find Gina's sister," he decided. "That seems like the best course of action."

"You think she saw something?" asked Dean, already moving towards his duffel bag to pack up. Castiel stopped him, though, holding out a hand.

"You're not coming with me. You need sleep. You've been having sex all night."

Dean heard Sam choke back a laugh at the matter-of-fact statement, and even he had to bite his tongue to keep from grinning. Castiel would just come out and  _say_ these things, and it was always either amusing or horrifying. Usually horrifying.

Subtlety. Not an angel's strong point.

But if Cas thought he was going anywherewithout them, while big things like this were going on, he could forget it.

"No way, you're not going on your own," Dean snapped. "We're coming, too. Besides, you know you suck at interviewing humans. We can sleep later-"

"I'm just going to watch over her," Castiel interrupted in exasperation. "She's Norman blood, that makes her a target as a backup vessel. You can follow me tomorrowafter you've slept,and interview her then. Humans need sleep, Dean, and you're a human."

"You're not going anywhere without us, Cas-" Dean paused as the angel rolled his eyes and simply vanished with a faint rustling of wings. Damn it! The hunter angrily threw his duffel bag back down, shouting up into thin air, "Frickin' stubborn angel!"

He couldn't reallybe pissed off, though. Cas was as stubborn as angels came, so in a way, Dean was really just happy to see him acting like himself. It looked like Sammy was also trying to bite back another smile, shrugging in a clear what're-you-gonna-do look.

"Screw this," growled Dean. "You get enough sleep to last a while?"

"Yeah, but youdidn't, I'm guessing."

He hadn't actually gotten any sleep at all, but Castiel wasn't the only stubborn one. Digging his keys out of his pocket, Dean tossed them to Sammy. "Guess that means you're driving. I'll get an address on the sister and then grab a couple hours sleep in the car. He's not going in there with no back-up."

Sam wisely decided not to argue with his brother; it wouldn't have done him any good, anyway. Instead, the two brothers made their way quickly out to the Impala, hurrying after their angel friend.

* * *

 

Cas knew right away that something was wrong.

Blood had a very distinctive smell, even among the myriad of scents that covered the planet. Castiel could smell the iron, the slight coppery tang, even the warmth that told him the blood was still fresh. Dean or Sam might have detected a faint odor of it, but Castiel's senses were heightened and it hit him like a putrid hammer from the second he descended into Tricia Norman's house.

There was too much of it, and Castiel had a sinking suspicion that he was already too late.

Carefully, as silently as possible, Castiel drew his angel blade and slipped stealthily through the house. The kitchen was clear, as was the living room. There was no sign of activity on the stairway leading up to the second floor… but the smell of blood got stronger and stronger.

By the time the angel reached the bedroom, he no longer had any doubt of what he would find. He'd come too late, and this blood smelled unmistakably human. Tricia Norman, Gina's sister, was already dead, or dying.

Sure enough, when he pushed the door open, Castiel's gaze widened to take in the scene before him. Tricia Norman was lying on her bed, watching the ceiling above her sightlessly. Blood pooled from her throat, still spilling out in hot, red cascades. Her chest heaved, throat gurgled, and Castiel felt sick.

"No," he gasped out, immediately flying to the woman's side. "No…"

Instinctively, the angel put his hand up to Tricia's forehead, willing his grace to spill out into her, to heal her. There was still time, she wasn't too far gone! Castiel had healed far worse, but that had been when he was a  _real_ angel. Now, he could stand there all night long, hand on her head... she wasn't going to heal. He couldn't stop this; he couldn't save her.

What kind of angel couldn't even do  _this_  much?

Tricia had noticed him there, even as far gone as she was. Her faded eyes blinked, turning to lock onto his, and her lips moved soundlessly.  _Please..._  she couldn't say it, but her lips and her eyes said it all. She was asking him for help, and he was  _helpless_. All he could do was watch her die, fading away right there before his eyes. There was a rattling, wet exhalation, and he knew that she had just breathed her last. What he held now was just the empty husk of a dead body.

Bitterness gnawed at Castiel's heart, and he bowed his head. First the terrible nightmare, then his wings acting out on their own, now this. He just kept getting beaten down tonight. Castiel had failedTricia, and though the angel had been keeping it together so well, he was fast approaching his breaking point. No matter how hard he fought, he just couldn't be strong  _always_. Watching Tricia ask him to help her, and be helpless to do anything, was more than the angel could stand.

He'd given up  _everything_ to fight for humanity, and now he couldn't help them.

Looking up, Castiel narrowed his eyes into a dark glare, but there was more pain in the blue eyes than there was anger. "How much?" he demanded out loud to a Father who hadn't answered him in ages. "How much more could you  _POSSIBLY_  put on me?! How much more of this do I deserve?! I've  _paid_ , damn it! I've paid for rebelling! I've paid for letting the demons taint me!"

No tears fell from his eyes, but Castiel's voice broke and his throat burned. His stomach was tightening up into knots, as he waited for an answer that didn't come. He took a deep breath, head bowing again as he whispered brokenly. "Please... take this from me... I can't. I'm fighting for  _your_ humans. If I have to pay, then make me pay... but not like this. Not so that the humans have to suffer, too. I could have healed her. I could have  _saved_ her. Please... give me back my grace. Just make me a real angel again, not...  _this_. What do you  _want_ from me?"

The only reply was the sound of a soft footstep behind him. It would have been silent to anyone without the benefit of keen, angelic hearing, but he heard the noise just in time to straighten up and raise his angel blade. Bitter or not, Castiel's instincts were still as razor sharp as ever - but his attacker was quicker.

Castiel froze as a hand grabbed his wrist before he could even turn around, halting his attack. Another blade was already touching his throat, an angel blade that could kill him with one clean cut. From the darkness behind him, there was a low, furious voice.

"I've got you  _now."_

* * *

Not very far away, on the outskirts of town in a large, innocuous house that seemed to repel attention, a man was sitting in an old, leather armchair. His elbows were propped on the armrests, fingers tented. His face was wrinkled in regal disdain and cold thoughtfulness, while his eyes burned with a terrifying combination of self-righteousness and wrath.

"Alright, who's next?" another man demanded as he stormed in, crossing his arms and glaring at the seated man. "Haven't got all day, have we?"

The seated man raised his hooded eyes, and his hand flicked out; the speaker who'd walked in grunted and dropped to his knees, forced by an invisible hand. His eyes flashed demonic black in annoyance, but he couldn't stand back up.

"Watch how you speak to me, vermin," the seated man snarled. "I'm an  _angel_... show the proper respect, or I'll snuff you out. I'll give you the next name when you finishthe job, you brainless swine! There's one more with Norman blood, and I want it  _all_ scrubbed out. Go!"

The demon was released; he turned and left, with one more hate-laden glare over his shoulder that the seated angel willingly returned. When the demon had vanished, another voice spoke from the shadows.

"Jareb. You're angry, aren't you."

The angel's glare deepened, the disdain and wrath burning even more darkly as he spat out, "Yes."

"Good. You should be. You're enjoying your revenge?"

Again, the glare deepened, and the reply was almost unintelligible in its low rumble: "Yes."

The speaker in the shadows moved, coming to stand behind the angel Jareb. "They betrayed you," he whispered. " _Punished_ you. For what? They call it "re-education", but it was torture, wasn't it? What did they do to you, Jareb? You didn't deserve  _any_ of it. What sort of brothers would torture you just for having questions? Heaven turned its back on you, and it's up to you to make it right. For  _everyone_. Destroy them, Jareb. Destroy everyone."

"Believe me, I will! They did betray me," agreed the angel. His hands tightened into fists, crashing down onto the leather armrests. The darkness inside of him burned stronger, grew hungrier, with every inciting word. "But I'll make it right. They're  _all_ going to pay. Every last  _one_ of them... and anyone who stands in my way. This is justiceand  _no one_  is going to stop me!"

"Of course, my friend." Lucifer stood behind Jareb in the shadows, and his tone was soft, sympathetic, angered on Jareb's behalf - the voice of a concerned friend.

But on his face, hidden in the half-darkness, the corners of his mouth pulled upwards, and the devil smiled...


	5. Of Fair Deceit and Honeyed Lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: There will be a character in this chapter who was introduced in Where They Don't Belong; again, I've tried to tell you everything you need to know about him without you having to read the other story first :) If you DO want to know more, there's a more in depth background in the prequel.

Castiel blinked, then frowned, as he risked tilting his head a slight bit behind him. "Terriel?" he asked in disbelief. "It's me, Castiel!"

Terriel was a friend. He'd been there when Zachariah had captured Cas. He'd been the only one in Cas's entire existence to be allowedto touch his wings, in order to heal him. Terriel was a friend, one of the few who could be trusted. So, Cas expected for the grip on his wrist to slacken, for his friend to step back and release him; instead, the hand holding him only tightened and the blade at his throat pressed in deeper. Castiel inhaled sharply, calling again,

"Terriel!"

"You!" There was anger in Terriel's voice, but more confusingly, a hint of desperation. "You?! Who do you fight for, Castiel?! Heaven or Hell?!"

_"Whom do you serve?" Zachariah asked coldly, standing over him. Castiel knew the price of his honesty, but he made his stand anyway. The traitorous hands were like snakes slithering over the trembling feathers of his wings…_

"No," the angel growled, wrenching his focus back to the moment, ending the flashback before it could get too firm of a grip. He shifted his shoulders, invisible wings fluttering in the ethereal plane. There was a confused noise from Terriel, and then a slight shake.

"What?! Answer me!"

Moving swiftly, Castiel's free hand came up to grab Terriel's arm, pushing it - and the blade - away from his throat. At the same time, he twisted around like lightning, slamming an open palm against Terriel's chest so that the other angel stumbled back and away from him. There was no antagonism on Terriel's face, just guarded uncertainty and distress.

"Who do you fight for?!" Terriel demanded again, raising his angel blade once more. Castiel frowned, taking a chance by slowly sliding his own angel blade back into his sleeve in a show of peace. Terriel watched him, wary and anxious, as Castiel replied firmly,

"Neither. I fight for the humans, as you wellknow."

Terriel seemed to crumple, closing his eyes briefly as he lowered his blade. "I'm sorry, brother," he murmured. "But I don't know what to believe anymore. Angels are changing s _ides,_  Castiel. I was expecting to find the one responsible for this here, so when I saw  _you…_  I panicked."

"I didn't kill Tricia Norman," Castiel assured him with a deeper frown. So he wasn't the only one who had noticed… nor the only one who'd realized there had to be an angel behind this. "Or any of the other three."

"Three?" Terriel still sounded distressed as he massaged his temples anxiously and informed the other angel, "Tricia Norman makes seventeen.  _Seventeen_ vessels, Castiel, all within the last two months, and the murders are getting more frequent."

Wait...  _seventeen_? Castiel felt cold, his mouth opening slightly in shock. So many... this was even worse than he'd thought. Much worse.

"I've been trying to stop whoever's doing this for the past few weeks, and getting nowhere." Terriel went on through gritted teeth. "I'm getting desperate, Castiel."

Castiel could feel his friend's frustration; he knew, acutely well, how terrible it was to be unable to prevent people from dying. He was still trying to process the fact that  _seventeen_ vessels were already dead, though. "We need to do something," he growled in agreement. "Who's next in line? Maybe we can get there first."

"Tricia has a daughter, Zoey," Terriel reminded him. "I believe she spends weekends with her father. She's the last in the Norman line, but too young to be considered, of course. I don't even know if they would target her yet, especially when there's so many other vessels that  _are_ of age. I dohave a couple more guesses, but I can't get to  _all_ of them..."

The angel trailed off, clearly exhausted and frustrated. Castiel nodded, knowing that Terriel was probably still adjusting to the diminished power that came with the territory of leaving Heaven. Taking pity on his friend, he suggested, "I'll take the Winchesters and check on Zoey. You should rest and then go start finding the other vessels you're worried about. I'm sure Dean and Sam will want to help."

Terriel gave him a grateful look, nodding in agreement. "Thank you, brother. I just... I'm not sorry that I left Heaven after what happened to you, but it gets much harder to try to do everything alone."

"You don't have to now," Castiel reminded him firmly. "I'll contact you later."

The two angels nodded their farewells, flying off in opposite directions. Castiel disappeared into the ether, reappearing almost instantly back in the motel room where he'd assumed Sam and Dean would still be.

Looking around the empty room, he wondered with irritation WHY he had made such a ridiculous assumption. Of  _course_  the two Winchesters weren't going to do as he'd so logically suggested. Why did he even bother?

It was impossible to determine where they'd gone, with their ribs branded in Enochian sigils to hide them. Instead, Cas pulled out his cellphone – he still didn't understand how these human contraptions actually functioned – and pushed the button that Dean had assured him would always connect to the older Winchester's phone.

_"Yeah, talk to me."_

"That's why I called you, Dean."

_"I mean, WHAT, Cas? We're on our way to you right now, what's your twenty?"_

Castiel had absolutely no idea what a "twenty" was besides a number, and he sighed in exasperation. "Tricia Norman is dead," he informed Dean in a flat voice, trying not to dwell on his own failure to help her. He needed to stay clear-headed, and in reality. "Where are you?"

There was a pause, then a soft swear from Dean, and then finally an answer. "Highway 167. Calhoun County. We just passed mile marker... uh... 9."

It was the work of a moment to find them with those directions, guided by their additional prayers, and Cas was in the backseat of Dean's prized Impala before he'd even hung up the phone. The two brothers were growing more accustomed to his sudden appearances, and didn't even jump when he gruffly asked,

"Weren't you supposed to be getting some sleep?"

"Dean figures he can sleep when he's dead," Sam answered from the driver's seat with a grin, though Castiel didn't find that particularly funny. "Anyway, if someone already got to Tricia, then what do we do now?"

"Now we find Tricia's daughter." Castiel wasn't looking forward to this. She was a child. A female human child. His only experience with children was Claire Novak, and she had been particularly mature for her limited age. "Zoey Matthan. She's the last of the Norman blood line, though of course she is ineligible as a vessel for several years. Children can't truly say yes, not when they don't understand the actual question."

In the front, Dean and Sam shared a quick look, but didn't say anything. Sam only nodded and asked where they needed to go. Driving would be too slow, though. Castiel couldn't stop the memory of Tricia's last moment from playing over and over in his mind, sending him dangerously close to another flashback of being helpless.

No, there was no time. "We have to fly," the angel informed them both, knowing that if Zoey wasa target, every second counted. "Sam, pull over."

Prepared with their demon-killing knife and salt from the trunk, the two hunters slammed the doors and nodded to Cas – Dean looking less than thrilled, of course. Castiel ignored this, laying a hand on either of their shoulders, and taking flight.

The first thing they heard as they materialized in young Zoey's bedroom was the screaming. Castiel whirled around to see two demons advancing on the four year old girl, who was crouching in a corner. She was shrieking in terror, tears dripping from huge brown eyes that overwhelmed her tiny face.

"Hey!" Dean roared, knife already in hand as he charged. Cas was right behind him, leaving Sam to slide through and start laying down a protective ring of salt.

"Winchesters?!" one of the demons demanded when it had recovered its footing, using its power to throw Dean away from him and into Cas. The angel was rock solid, though, and caught Dean before he could hit the ground without even stumbling himself. They'd leveled off now, two demons against the Winchesters and Cas. In the back, Zoey was sniffling tearfully, a reminder of what was at stake. Castiel didn't dare smite the demons; he knew the forceful light of his grace would be too much for Zoey.

He had failed her mother, too  _weak_ to save her. Cas's fists clenched in furious determination; he would  _not_ fail Zoey, too.

"Leave now if you want to live," he growled threateningly, but they only laughed. It burned Castiel's heart. He could remember when just the  _idea_ of an angel would have had the demons on the run, cowering in fear.

"Just because we're not allowed to kill Lucifer's vessel doesn't mean we can't rip  _you_ to pieces… or her," one of them pointed out with a malicious smile. Castiel's eyes shifted from one to the other. The first one to step towards the little girl was going to be obliterated.

Beside him, Sam suddenly stared muttering, "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus-"

"Get him!" a demon shouted, as both twitched slightly from the power of the exorcism that Sam was beginning. Dean and Castiel both stepped in front of the hunter to shield him while he said the ritual, but another voice captured the angel's attention.

"Zoey, little Zoey… come here, child, I'll protect you."

Castiel's head whipped around, frowning to see another figure he didn't recognize standing in front of Zoey, hand extended. He could feel the newcomer's grace, and knew instantly that it was an angel; he had to squint for a second, though, to place his name.

Jareb. It was an angel named Jareb, though Castiel had never met or spoken with him. He was instantly alert, mistrusting. Had Heaven sent this angel to protect the vessel at last, or was this the angel who was responsible for so many deaths?

Zoey was looking up at him, sniffling, but at least she seemed to be following Sam's instructions to stay in the "magic circle". Jareb only smiled softly. "I'm an angel," he told her in a velvety smooth voice that had Cas on edge. "I'll keep you safe from these nasty things."

"But you don't look like an angel," Zoey whimpered in her little four-year-old lisp, her l's disappearing into w's.

"Come with me, Zoey," the stranger whispered again, and Castiel felt a sudden stab of evil race over his wings. The feeling of terrible hands stroking him heightened,on the verge of throwing him into a flashback that neither he nor Zoey could afford.

Castiel knew then – he just  _knew_ – that Jareb was not there to help her.

He reacted instantly, stepping up to Zoey – carefully out of a blade's reach from Jareb – and addressed the little girl himself.

"Zoey, don't listen to him!" he growled. "Come here, Zoey, quickly!  _I'm_ an angel, I came to help you."

Dean and Sam were still holding the demons off in the background, trying to complete the exorcism, but Castiel's attention was on the angel and the girl. She had turned her huge eyes towards him now, sniffling, "But  _you_  don't look like an angel  _either."_

"Because he isn't," Jareb sharply snapped, glaring at Castiel with a fury-laden gaze before turning back to the girl. "He's lying to you. Come  _here_ , Zoey."

"No, Zoey! Come with me!"

"But… but Daddy says… Daddy says I can't go with strangers…"

"I'll take you to your daddy," promised Jareb, which only confirmed Castiel's fears that Zoey's father was already dead. Zoey didn't move towards him, still cowering fearfully inside the salt ring, but Castiel was distracted now as Sam suddenly gasped.

It was a wet, choking sound, thick with blood, and then came Dean's terrified shout.  _"SAMMY!"_

Immediately, Castiel spun back towards his friends in horror, and there was a flare of energy that started from his heart and soared up to his shoulders.  _Not again!_  It was beyond his control to stop the powerful wings from ripping through both his shirt and his coat, manifesting themselves in a high, defensive arc.

Everything in the room stopped. Sam was on the floor, blood pouring from around an ugly knife buried in his gut as Dean knelt over him protectively. The demons were staring at Cas, baffled and edgy, and even Jareb's attention was now on him and the wings that filled almost the whole room. The other angel was frowning, eyebrows drawing together as he took in the sight, but Castiel saw none of this.

_"Stop! Brothers! No, PLEASE! Please… please don't do this. No!" Angels. Angels whom he'd trusted, fought alongside, believed in. Angels with their hands on his wings, touching him in a way that Castiel had no desire to be touched-_

No! He couldn't lose focus… he...couldn't...lose-

"What is this?!" Jareb's harsh voice was mottled with confusion, but Cas didn't answer.

_"You will swear your allegiance to us once again, Castiel, and you will BOW to me!" Zachariah wanted his humiliation, his submission, because angels didn't bow. Only to God himself, but never to another angel. Not even a commanding officer. "You're my bitch."_

"CAS! Cas,  _fight it_!" Dean was shouting at him, the voice coming in and out of focus as the angel slipped in between flashback and reality, trying to claw his way back to the room where Sam, Dean, and Zoey still needed him. This was exactlywhat he'd feared from the moment his wings had materialized themselves in the hotel room: losing himself in the middle of a battle, and getting his friends killed because of it. This was his precise fear, and Castiel wavered, suspended between two realities.

Quieter than anything, and yet punctuated clearly through the haze of Cas's mind, he suddenly heard a tiny little gasp and an awe-filled, lisped, "Mr. Angel!"

A shock raced through him again, just as Castiel wrenched his wings back under control and shifted them to the ethereal plane. His vision cleared, forced back into focus. The angel looked down to see that Zoey was now wrapped around one of his legs, face buried in the back of his knee. She'd grabbed his wing before he'd hidden them – yet  _another_ reason why it was so dangerous for them to be emerging on their own, damn it! He didn't want anyone TOUCHING them! The sight must have convinced little Zoey that he was truly an angel, though, as she clung to him for all she was worth.

Behind him, the demons were screaming; Dean had taken advantage of the distraction to run the dagger through them both, but Jareb was still standing there, staring at Castiel calculatingly.

"What's wrong with your wings?" he demanded harshly, his tiny, young target forgotten. "Something's wrong with you, I could  _see_ it. What is it?!"

"Why are you killing vessels?" Castiel demanded in return, ignoring the question though he felt shame burning through him again. He'd feared the corruption might be visible to other angels. Apparently that fear had been justified, though it seemed Jareb wasn't quite sure what exactly the problem was.

"…You're  _tainted_." There was revulsion in Jareb's voice, and Castiel's shame multiplied. "What did they do to you?" Jareb eyed him more closely, his voice dropping as he muttered thoughtfully, "Heaven's punished you,too. But with what? This is new."

"Why are you killing vessels?!"

Behind him, Castiel could hear Dean telling Sam to hold on, to just hold on. They didn't have time for this; Sam must be gravely injured, they  _had_ to get him out of there. There was no way Jareb would be able to get the little girl away from Castiel now anyway. She'd fastened herself onto him, no more weight than an extra feather on his wings, but he needed an answer, not more of the cryptic musings.

Jareb, however, merely shrugged, cold and dark as he sifted into a fighting stance. "Don't stand in my way," he warned icily, which wasn't an answer at all.

Castiel shifted as well, stepping his feet apart and crouching slightly in aggression. Jareb wasn't getting Zoey. "I will  _always_ stand between you and the humans," he shot back intently. "Zachariah said those same words to me… and now he's dead. I killed him. Are you  _sure_  you want to have this fight?"

For a moment, Jareb considered him, then Zoey, then the two Winchesters behind the angel - neither of which he had a hope of reaching without going through Castiel first. His eyes returned to Castiel, calculating and thoughtful. Then finally, he shrugged again, smiling darkly.

"This isn't over. I'll be back."

With a nod, Castiel snarled, "I'll be here."

Then in a flutter of wings, Jareb was gone, leaving them wounded, shaken, and alone.


	6. Don't Listen, Child, Don't Listen

Dean couldn't think about anything but Sammy, not even feeling the disorienting, uncomfortable flight back to the Impala. His hands were coated in his brother's blood as he kept the torn piece of shirt pressed tightly to the wound in Sam's stomach, trying desperately to staunch the flow.

"Sam? Hey, Sammy… come on, hang in there," he ordered his brother with a forced laugh, ignoring Zoey's frightened wails – apparently she disliked angel flying even more than Dean did. "It's just a little knife wound, open your eyes, you baby!"

Oh God, there was so much blood, Dean knew this was  _not_ just a little knife wound. This had been a killing blow, intended for  _him_ , and his stupid, IDIOT of a brother had jumped in the way to protect him.

"Yup, no, all good," Sammy choked back, presumably in reassurance… but it was difficult for Dean to be comforted when there was blood dripping out of his brother's mouth and forehead creased tightly in obvious pain.

"Hang in there, you're gonna be just fine, this is nothing," Dean lied, risking to lift the edge of the shirt he was using as a bandage to check on the damage. Oh shit… "Cas?! Cas!"

"Please stop crying… Zoey,  _please_ , I'm begging you, stop crying! Zoey, I'm  _ordering_  you to stop, this instant!" The angel sounded completely overwhelmed, his attention demanded by both the shrieking four year old that was clamped around his leg in fear, and his best friend bleeding out on the ground.

"Cas, NOW!" Dean shouted. The angel turned to him with a look of frantic despair, gesturing to the little body attached to his leg, pleading,

"How do you make it stop?!"

"Cas, I need you  _here_. Sam's been hurt!"

Sam was hurt,  _very_ hurt, and Dean knew with a sinking heart that Cas couldn't heal him. He knew this wasn't Cas's fault, but watching his little brother – his  _baby brother_  – lie there dying made him snap, "Get your damn head in the game, Cas! What the hellis going on with you?!"

"I don't know!" Cas shouted back, looking like he was about to explode from the stress of Dean and Zoey's yells. Dean didn't care at the moment, the only thing he cared about was getting Sammy fixed up before it was too late – ONLY then would he calm down.

"Well, you'd better figure it out!"

"I didn't ask for this! Zoey,  _PLEASE_  stop! Why won't she be quiet!?"

"Don't mind me," Sam choked out wryly through gritted teeth, eyes closed as he panted. "I'm just… gonna sit here… and bleed, 'kay?"

How were they even supposed to think straight if the child didn't stop this racket?! The shrieking from Zoey was about to make Dean lose his head completely if she didn't stop, and with no idea what else to do, Dean jumped to his feet and grabbed Cas by the lapels of his trench coat. "She calmed down when she saw your wings!" he reminded the angel desperately. "You don't have to bring them out, just show her the shadows like the first time I saw you! Cas, please, I  _need_ you! Sammy needs you, man!"

Cas closed his eyes and Dean could see that he wasn't at all happy about this, but he nodded. "Turn the lights of your car on," the angel requested, before reaching down and easily lifting Zoey off of him, holding her out at arm's length. "Zoey, look."

Dean reached into the Impala, flipping on the headlights; it was less terrifying than lightning, but just as dramatic, as he and Zoey both watched enormous black shadows rise in the shape of wings against the woody background. It was just as impressive as the night he'd first met Cas, and even Sam caught his breath a bit from his spot on the ground. Fully visible or merely shadows, those wings were incredible.

Thankfully, it had the desired effect on the four year old, and she fell silent. Her brown eyes widened, mouth open as she stared, mesmerized. "Wowwww…." she whispered in her awed little voice. "So big…"

"Yes, very big," the angel agreed, sounding displeased with the attention - but not freaking out, to Dean's relief. "Now," Cas went on as he set Zoey down, "I need you to be quiet and let me take care of Sam."

"Okay, Mr. Angel."

If Dean wasn't so afraid for Sam, he might have laughed at the name Zoey had decided to stick Cas with. As it was, though, he could find nothing humorous about anything, as he crouched over Sam and reminded him once again to stop being such a baby, that there was nothing wrong with him.

"Can you take him to a hospital?" Dean asked quietly, trying not to let Sammy hear him as Cas knelt down as well. He could see frustration and self-loathing in the angel's eyes, as he always could whenever one of them were injured and Cas couldn't heal them. It tore Dean up to see his best friend like that, wishing he could convince Cas that his value wasn't in how much angelic power he did or didn't have.

Castiel didn't answer. Instead, he closed his eyes, lips moving silently. Dean was about to snap in impatience to get a move on, but was interrupted by a hand that landed on his shoulder and urged him gently out of the way.

"What the-" Dean let out a curse, jumping to his feet and preparing to rush the newcomer. He stopped short, though, as he registered the face - one he hadn't seen in months. "Terry?"

Terriel nodded curtly in acknowledgment, laying his hand on Sam's forehead and closing his eyes. Dean could feel something – less than a breath of air, less than a flash of light – pass from Terriel to Sam, and then his brother opened his eyes with a gasp.

Dean tilted his head back, his own eyes closing with silent relief as he released the breath he'd been holding. That had been too close.  _Way_ too close. "Damn it, Sammy," he growled, yanking his brother up and pulling him in close with a hard grip. "Don't you  _ever_ do that again!" It wasn't Sam's job to make sacrifices for him!

"Dean... can't breathe... chill out, I'm good." As if he hadn't been on the brink of dying.Dean rolled his eyes as Sam returned the hug, then pulled himself free to frown up at his rescuer. "Terriel? I wasn't expecting to see you. Uh... thanks."

"Hey wait, so how come you can still heal people?" Dean asked, briefly distracted as Zoey pushed past him to wrap herself silently around Cas's leg once again. "I thought you left Heaven."

"Yes, I'm cut off," Terriel replied, his voice falling a bit. "Castiel lost the power to heal…  _I_  lost the power to smite demons… or… well, anything."

Oh. Man, that had to be hard, just as hard as it had been on Cas to lose his own abilities. Dean saw Cas nod in empathetic understanding at the rather dismal tone in Terry's voice, and the hunter offered his own quick "sorry" on the angel's behalf. Terry shrugged.

"We can choose our path, but not the consequences it comes with," he pointed out sagely. "Anyway, you three taught me that an angel can still fight even without his… "mojo". So that's what I've been doing."

"Speaking of fighting," Cas quickly spoke up, frowning, glancing down to see Zoey nuzzling the back of his knee, and then looking back to Terriel. "What happened with the other vessels you were looking into?"

Terriel snorted in frustration, rubbing his head. "I only made it to three other potential targets when you called. There was nothing happening there, which is good... but I don't know where to even start, now. I see your mission was successful, though," he added, leaning around to inspect the little child that was glued to Castiel, peeking around his tan trench coat with wide eyes.

Moving slowly, Terriel crouched down beside Zoey. "I'm sorry this happened to you," he told her solemnly. "One day you'll be asked to bear an angel of great power in your own body, and for that you've been caught up in this war between Heaven and Hell."

Dean and Sam traded wry looks at each other, as Zoey stared at Terriel in utter incomprehension and blinked her big brown eyes. She had no idea what he was saying to her, or who he was, and the two hunters had to bite back smiles.

"Uh… yeah… let's dial it down a bit, Terry. She's  _four,_ " Sam muttered, pulling himself up to his feet, as Dean moved over to push Terriel out of the way.

"You angels have absolutely no idea how to talk to kids, do you?" he snickered. "Lighten up. Hey, Zoey… they're pretty funny, aren't they?" Dean gave the little girl a huge grin and a wink, making a goofy face. Zoey giggled, shyly sliding a fingertip into her mouth as she nodded. Dean chuckled, reaching out to tweak one of her twin ponytails.

"Can I go see Mommy now?" Zoey asked hopefully, and the mood was immediately dampened. The brothers traded grim looks, not wanting to tell the little girl that her mommy was dead.

Dean hated this; losing one parent was destructive enough for a four year old. He would know.  _God_ , he would know. But Zoey had lost both, and she was already caught up in this war that she couldn't possibly understand, and all because her aunt had been the chosen vessel of an angel who hadn't even bothered to be keeping an eye out.

Dean was furious. It wasn't fair, damn it! He could see that Zoey was starting to tear up, and he could see that Cas was looking at him pleadingly now in a clear Dean-she's-going-to-start-crying-again-what-do-I-do way.

Sighing, Dean reached out and hooked his hands under Zoey's arms, lifting her up and settling her on his hip. Zoey sniffled and laid her head trustingly on his shoulder, as Dean murmured, "No, you're gonna have to stay with Mr. Angel for a while, okay? He's gonna keep you safe. Just close your eyes, and go to sleep."

Zoey sniffled again, and Dean ignored the raised eyebrows that Sammy had pointed in his direction. Sure, he preferred to be known as the badass, but that didn't mean he didn't know how to take care of a kid. Hell, he'd taken care of Sammy long enough. Getting a scared kid to fall asleep was something he could do. Closing his eyes, Dean softly started to sing in his gruff voice.

"Hey, Jude… don't make it bad. Take a sad song, and make it better..."

* * *

Dean's singing had done the trick, and Zoey had slept soundly in the backseat of the Impala for what was left of the night, parked in a field not far off the road. Sam was still impressed at how well Dean had handled the little girl, and amused at how firmly Zoey had decided to glue herself to Cas. Ever since she had caught sight of his wings, she'd decided he was  _definitely_ an angel, and seemed to be in awe of him.

While she'd slept, Cas had branded her little ribcage with the same Enochian sigils he'd put on the two brothers, hiding them from angels. Now the question was, what were they going to do next?

"That's the last one," Terriel announced later that morning, leaning back so Sam could look over his shoulder, Dean beside him. The two angels had been crouching over a map of the States, painstakingly marking the locations of all the potential vessels in Sharpie. Sam blinked, glancing at his brother quickly.

The map was  _covered_  in colored dots. How were they supposed to narrow that down?

"Uh…" Dean seemed to be thinking the same thing, as he shook his head. "You're joking, right?"

"It's not entirely accurate," Terriel admitted, sighing and rubbing his head. "After all, these are just the American ones. Now if you only had an atlas, or perhaps a globe, we could include the rest of them."

"The… the  _rest_  of them?"

"Mr. Angel, can I see your wings again?"

Cas looked at Zoey, frowning. "What? No. And my name isn't Mr. Angel, it's  _Castiel_."

"Please?" Only in her young voice, it came out "pwease" instead, and Cas stared at her.

" _No_. I- what are you doing? What is she doing?"

Sam could barely contain his laughter, a huge grin stretching across his face as he watched the angel encounter the "puppy eyes" for the first time. Zoey's deep brown eyes were huge and pleading, her crooked front teeth chewing hopefully on her lip as her hands clasped in front of her. He could tell it was throwing Cas off, as the angel blinked and repeated,

"No, I said no. Stop that. Why are you looking at me like that?"

" _Pleeeeease?_ "

"Wh- no! ...don't  _do_ that!"

Beside him, Dean was cracking up, obviously taking quite a bit of pleasure in Cas's struggle against the Puppy Eyes. Zoey was almost as good at it as Sam had been himself. It was quite formidable indeed, especially against an angel who was completely unprepared for it.

"Good luck with that, Mr. Angel," Dean snickered, pushing himself up to his feet. "Anyway, I guess we should probably feed her. I think there's still some potato chips or something in the car..."

While Dean dug through the Impala to scrounge up anything resembling food, and Terriel studied the map of human vessels, Sam pulled Cas (and the girl sitting on his foot with arms and legs wrapped around him) aside.

"So… I was a little out of it," he admitted quietly, "but, Dean says your wings manifested again?"

Cas stiffened, and he looked away. "Yes," he murmured back. He offered nothing else, though, until Sam asked in a low voice,

"You doing ok?"

"Uh,  _no_ , Sam." With a sigh, Cas closed his eyes, then added with less bite, "I'm losing control. I'm losing  _humans._ Tricia died in my arms. I couldn't heal  _you_ , and... Sam, all I wanted was to protect you and all the other humans, and now I just feel like..." He trailed off, but the note of uncertainty and underlying fear came through loud and clear to Sam.

He wasn't going to have any of  _that_. "Cas. Listen to me. The first lesson any hunter learns is that you can't save everybody. You knew that going in, you knew what we were up against. You can't save everyone."

"I can't save  _anyone_ , Sam!"

Sam shrugged, looking down at the little girl who had barely let go of Cas since the night before, and pointed out, "You saved  _her_. We'll get through this. Okay?"

Again, Cas sighed, but nodded. "I'm sorry," he began, but Sam cut him off with a shake of his head.

"Don't apologize. Seriously. There's nothing for you to be sorry for, got it?"

"Fine." Because Winchesters only said "fine" when they felt anything but "fine", and he might as well be a Winchester by now. Sam studied him, waiting, but Cas was obviously done discussing this. Not wanting to push too hard, Sam could only nod and then disappear to help his brother search for breakfast. Cas got down like this sometimes after losing one, but he'd always bounced back. Sam could only trust that he would again, and the hunters would be ready to help in any way they could.

When Sam had walked away, Castiel felt a little hand tugging on his trousers, and he glanced down to see wide brown eyes staring up at him. Zoey watched him solemnly, asking,

"Are you sad, Mr. Angel?"

"My name  _isn't_  Mr. Angel, it's Castiel."

"Okay. Don't be sad, Mr. Angel. It'll be okay."

The angel stared down at the girl, with absolutely no idea what to say. He was surprised to feel his eyes suddenly burning and his throat closing up, not understanding the reaction. All Cas knew was that he was feeling pain, fear that his wings would emerge again and leave him vulnerable to his enemy's mercy, or worse: that he would fall into a flashback or a hallucination and not be able to protect Dean and Sam... that he couldn't save the humans _._  He was feeling despair and furious helplessness that he had failed Tricia. All Cas knew was that he felt darkness, and then suddenly… for just the swiftest second… something completely different passed through him that didn't come from him.

A new emotion, feelings of safety, awe, child-like delight and wonder shot through his heart, so fast that he wasn't even sure he'd really felt it. Cas kept staring at the child, who was beaming up at him happily. What had  _that_ been? Was that what Zoey was feeling, perhaps? Maybe he was just picking up her emotions. Children weremore naturally easy to read. Perhaps that had been all it was.

Then: "Mr. Angel, can I see your wings?"

"I said no! What- don't  _look_ at me like that! Stop that!"

* * *

 

"I was  _this close_ ," Jareb snapped, pacing back and forth with a dark, foreboding glare. "She's the last one! Once the child is dead, then all the vessels of allthe angels who betrayed me will be gone!"

"Well…" Lucifer sidled out from where he'd been leaning against the wall, covered in shadow. There was a concerned look painted on his face as his burning eyes followed the other angel around the room. "In a way, yes, I suppose you're right."

"What do you mean, in a way?!"

Lucifer sighed, shaking his head. "Jareb… I want to help you get the revenge you deserve. What they did to you was inexcusable. And they say  _I'm_ the villain, can you imagine? Jareb, they'll just take other vessels. You know they will. When it comes down to it, the strongest angels will take whatever vessels are available, even if they're meant for another angel. Think about it… you knowthey simply take what they want. You've accomplished so much, my friend, but it'll only slow them down. It won't stop them. You  _can't_  stop them."

"I can!" Jareb shouted back, hands flying up to his hair and running through them frantically. "I  _will_ stop them! I'll stop them all!"

"There are too many other vessels, and unfortunately, we don't know who or where they are. If only we did-"

" _I_ know who they are! We'll kill  _all_ of them!"

Jareb's back was turned, and he couldn't see the concerned look on Lucifer's face shift into an evil, pleased smile. He saw nothing but his own rage, his need for justice, for vengeance after what had been done to him. The angels called it re-education, but it was really just  _torture_ , and all that mattered was making those same angels suffer, as he had suffered. Them, and  _all_ the angels, who knew and did nothing. They'd have a hard time turning a blind eye when the war came and they were annihilated because there were no vessels to fight in. Lucifer was the only angel who cared about justice, apparently, the only one who could sympathize and understand him.

He would wipe out the corruption of Heaven by wiping out the angels, and helping Lucifer take back the world that should have been theirsin the first place.

"And the Winchesters?" Lucifer asked now, voice silky and dripping in sweet heroin and honey. "Their angel, Castiel? They're going to try and stop you."

"I don't understand," Jareb snarled. "I  _saw_ Castiel's wings. I  _know_ he's been tainted somehow. They punished him, too, whywould he stand in my way? He should be helpingme, not selling himself out to those humans."

"He lacks the power that your anger and sense of justice give you," whispered the devil, weaving his words like a spider weaving a web. He wanted angels – all the angels he could have – and Castiel was so terribly promising. Besides… without his guardianship, the Winchesters would be even easier to take and then he could have his  _real_ vessel. "He's still powerful," Lucifer added, sighing. "If he'd only fight for us, this could all be over so much sooner."

"Then we'll  _make_  him fight for us." There was a low rumble of conviction in Jareb's voice as he paced, a dark and terrible coldness that only made the devil smile wider. "Can you do it?"

"Get him here," Lucifer suggested, barely containing his glee, "and I'll see what I can do to help."


	7. To the Monster Hiding Deep Within

Trying to narrow down a target was frustratingly impossible, and Dean understood why Terriel was feeling so frazzled. With no clear motive about  _why_ Jareb was destroying vessels, there was no way to anticipate where he would be going next. It also didn't help that neither Cas nor Terry even knew the guy.

"He wasn't in my garrison," Castiel explained with a shrug as he tried to pull the belt of his trench coat away from Zoey (he eventually gave up and let her keep tugging it happily).

"He was only sent back to Heaven once, though of course, hundreds were," supplied Terriel, causing the other three to stare at him. He returned their looks with confusion. "What?"

"Hundreds?" Cas demanded, eyes widening as his face grew chalky white. "I thought…  _maybe_  a dozen or so, but… are you  _sure_?"

"Well, not like… what Zachariah did," Terriel was quick to clarify. "I'd never heard of such a thing. But yes, angels were being sent back to Heaven for re-education all the time. Some of them twice, or even three times. I would know, I guarded many of them." He frowned, apparently seeing Cas's shock, then asked hesitantly, "You... you didn't know this? I just assumed... I mean, no one ever  _spoke_ of it, but... I thought... everyone knew."

It seemed that both angels were thrown off now, as Dean looked from one to the other. Cas clearly hadn't realized how many angels had been sent off to Angel Boot Camp, and Terriel clearly hadn't realized that it was that well-guarded of a secret. But, why?

"Well, that makes sense!" Sam exclaimed, though he was the only one to think so. It didn't make one single bit of sense to Dean, and he raised a questioning eyebrow at his brother.

"Uh…  _how_  does that make sense?"

"Well, I mean, they wouldn't want the soldiers to think that disobeying was a common thing, or it wouldn't seem like a very big deal. They were controlling you all with  _fear_ , they  _wanted_ you to think it was unnatural, so you'd suppress any doubts. I mean, Terry, you said yourself that half the time, they wouldn't even remember being sent back to Heaven at all. Cas… did angels in your garrison seem to get sent on sudden solo missions a lot?"

Dean could see Cas's face grow even paler, and he knew the answer was yes. That explained why the angel hadn't even been aware that so many were being sent back. Wow. So apparently torture was a _common_ thing in Heaven. Chalk that up as one more reason to keep refusing Michael. Another thought occurred to Dean and he asked Terriel, "So… how many times was Cas sent back?"

"Oh… well…" Terriel suddenly became quite interested in watching the clouds passing overhead, shifting from one foot to the other in an uncharacteristically awkward movement. "Um... He only came through  _my_ watch once, but… I believe he held the record at… nine."

"NINE?!" Dean's furious shout made both Terriel and Zoey jump, but Dean was appalled. Appalled and  _horrified_. Just how much torture had his friend  _taken_ at the hands of his own brothers?! Even Cas swayed slightly, and the hunter knew he was just as shocked; he'd even told Dean once that he believed he'd been taken back to Heaven at least twice. But nine?

Terriel nodded, seeming apologetic, as he added to Cas, "Yes, from what I understand, you're the famous "spanner in the works". You've never done what you were told. Not completely."

Well… that was something. Even above his outraged disbelief on Cas's behalf, Dean suddenly straightened, his gaze locking onto Cas. His chin lifted, eyes burning with fury and pride, as the hunter declared fiercely, "That's my boy."

Yes, Castiel had done things for the angels that were flat-out  _wrong_ , because he was under orders… and yet, he'd clearly been fighting all along. After nine times trying to  _change_ him, they'd never managed. Dean was  _damn_  proud. A small smile crept over Cas's face at Dean's validating remark though he still seemed rather dazed - and understandably so. This was a revelation they'd have to deal with later when the world wasn't at stake.

Clearing his throat, Terriel went on, "Anyway, none of this explains why Jareb is attacking human vessels. It gives Hell an advantage, certainly, but why would he want Hell to win?"

"Because he's clearly crazy," Sam pointed out, a sentiment that Dean readily agreed with. "More importantly, how do we stop him?"

In the end, all they could think to do was to continue to check in on the other vessels, hoping to capture a demon and make him tell them where Jareb was. If they could gank the angel who was revealing all the vessels' identities, this would hopefully stop - like cutting the head off the snake.

From there, they split the map in half. Sam and Terry were off towards the west coast to check up on vessels there, while Dean and Cas took the east. First, though, they stopped in at Bobby's to leave Zoey in his safekeeping. Until this was over, they didn't want to leave her with anyone less than a hunter, even with her angel warding and the hex bag Castiel made for her.

"But Daddy says not to go with strangers," Zoey plaintively reminded Cas, clinging to the bottom of his trench coat and eyeing Bobby doubtfully. Dean didn't try to bite back his grin, knowing the grizzled old hunter probably  _did_ look like a scary guy to any kid who didn't know better.

Cas brushed this off, though, telling Zoey shortly, "He's not a stranger, he's Bobby Singer." As though that made all the difference. He turned to Bobby, then, and Dean suddenly realized just how attached to Zoey the angel had become, when he said with a trace of worry,

"Just so you know, she doesn't like flying – though I suppose that won't be an issue with you, of course. She seems to enjoy the  _normal_  potato chips, but  _not_  the other ones with the salt and vinegar. Not the salt and vinegar, Bobby. She doesn't like how they taste and it makes her very upset, so please don't give her any of those. If she doesn't want to go to sleep, try singing the song about Jude, because that's what Dean did and it worked very well."

Bobby raised an eyebrow at Dean in vague amusement, but the younger hunter instantly glared defensively. "What?!"

Seriously… he knew how to take care of kids.

It hadn't been John Winchester who'd put Sammy back to sleep when the kid woke up from a nightmare. It hadn't been John who'd told Sammy bedtime stories of holidays and trips to Disneyworld and summer vacations. It hadn't been John who'd taught Sammy to tie his shoes or blow bubblegum bubbles.

Hell, John Winchester hadn't even been there when Sammy said his first word, and it hadn't been "Daddy". It had been "Dean."

Because it had always been Dean.

So, yeah, he knew how to get a scared kid back to sleep.

Castiel was still going on, though, seeming to have missed the moment, as he anxiously informed Bobby, "I walked through her dream last night to check up on her and she seems to have a terrible fear of snakes, so please be sure to keep them away from her if you see any-"

"Cas!" Bobby finally cut him off with a wry look. "You know, this ain't my first rodeo. I did help raise Sam and Dean. I think I got this covered."

For a second, Cas actually looked doubtful, but nodded with some reluctance. At any rate, Zoey seemed to be warming up to Bobby, now that "Mr. Angel" had given his blessing on the whole matter, and accepted the large hand that the hunter held out to her. She seemed content now, and waved happily at Castiel.

"Bye bye, Mr. Angel!"

"My name isn't Mr. Angel," Cas reminded her gruffly. "It's Castiel."

"Okay, Mr. Angel."

There was no arguing with her, apparently, so Cas finally gave up with a sigh and turned to Dean. "Are you ready?"

"Do I have a choice?"

But of course, there wasn't a choice, and the pair was off to try and save the world. Again.

* * *

As it turned out, saving the world was slow work. For a solid week, the four maintained a frustrating record of zero demon captures and one more murder.

No... make that two. Dean closed his eyes, muttering a soft swear, as he rubbed his head. The man's name had been Martin Gibbs, and he was dead as a doornail, lying in a pool of blood. Another vessel down, though there was one more left in his bloodline: a twin brother named Paul who lived two towns over, which was where Cas was at the moment. Dean hoped the angel was having better luck.

"Dear Cas, who art somewhere around here," Dean prayed out loud, using his gun to lift the dead man's hand and then let it fall with a splat back onto the floor. "We've already missed this one. Uh… copy that?"

He had no idea what to expect as far as an answer – but what he  _didn't_ expect was for another body to suddenly collide with him,  _hard_ , and knock him off balance. Dean shouted in surprise, but was cut off quickly as a hand clamped down over his mouth, another pair of hands holding his arms back from behind.

"Wddfck?!" Dean yelled into the palm that gagged him, looking up to meet a pair of black eyes. Shit. The demon smiled, holding a knife up to Dean's cheek while whoever was behind him – presumably another demon – forced his hands together behind his back. The hunter struggled wildly, fighting tooth and nail as he felt a harsh, unforgiving rope start to lash his wrists together. Double shit. "Gttffm!"

There was no way of actually winning this fight, when he was already at such a disadvantage, but that didn't stop Dean from giving it everything he had and then some. He kicked and squirmed like a madman, twisting as hard as he could to break loose, but he was well and truly captured. All too soon, his hands were bound and then there was no getting out of it. The demon gagging him let go, but kept the knife in place, as he leaned in with a putrid grin that made Dean wrinkle his nose in disgust.

"Go on," the demon hissed mockingly at his captive hunter. "Call your angel to come save you.  _Call_ him!"

Wait a minute – they  _wanted_ Cas to come? …This was a trap!

_"CAS, STAY AWAY!"_

Dean's frantic prayer came too late. There was an _almost_ audible flurry of wings, and then a choked gasp from the demon. His eyes opened wide, but the black wasn't even visible behind the gold, fiery light that shot out from the bleeding orifices. More of the same light was beaming from his open mouth, and the demon  _sparked_  in rapid bursts of energy, before he fell to the floor to reveal Castiel. The angel stood there with a cold expression of intensity, his bloody angel blade in hand, as he growled,

"He already did _."_

The remaining demon should have been terrified, but instead all he did was laugh darkly and yank Dean backwards. The hunter had to scramble to stay on his feet, caught in the demon's grasp.

"Look what I've got," the demon taunted Cas in a low hiss. "Catch me if you can!"

"Cas, NO!"

Castiel didn't need Dean's warning to know that this was probably a trap. It was most  _certainly_ a trap, but that didn't matter now. All that mattered was that the demon was starting to disappear,  _with Dean_ , and that Castiel would rather be caught himself than run away and leave Dean to his fate. Desperately, he lunged forward and grabbed hold of Dean's arm just as the demon pulled him away.

They were flung through space, with the demon clutching Dean, and Castiel getting dragged along. He hadn't had time to spread his own wings, and now they were racing through the void. Only angels flew through the ether, in the ethereal plane; demons used the void, the crushing nothingness that spat them back out now to somewhere unknown.

"I got him!" the demon crowed jubilantly as soon as they'd reappeared, still clutching Dean's arm as Castiel gripped the other one in a furious tug of war. "I  _got_ him!"

Castiel had time to take in two very serious facts: one, they were instantly surrounded by a ring of flames, a burning circle of holy oil that he would never be able to cross, with an entire room of demons on the other side watching with glee.

Two… just because he couldn't cross the flames didn't mean that any demon  _inside_ the ring was protected from him.

The demon was still laughing, foolishly forgetting that trapping an angel was like trapping a hurricane in a butterfly net. His laughter died on his lips as Castiel's blade sank into his heart, extinguishing him in the blink of an eye for  _daring_ to lay a hand on Castiel's human.

It was too late, though. If the angel could have used his grace to send Dean away to escape without him, he would have done so, but the holy oil burning in a ring around him prevented even that. Castiel took in the entire scene in the blink of an eye, examining his surroundings with only a single, quick gaze.

The room was dark, except for the dangerously crackling flames. The floor was cold stone, and the small, dingy window high on the wall told him that this was a large basement somewhere. Old boxes and crates were scattered around sparsely, and if he wasn't mistaken, that sigil there on the wall was meant to block prayers from getting in or out, so he couldn't call Terriel and Sam for help.

But worst of all were the demons. They filled the room with the steaming stink of sulfur, at least a dozen of them, all looking eager and excited. They were shouting taunts and threats at the trapped pair. The clamoring voices were overwhelming, and kept pushing Castiel to the brink of a flashback.  _Surrounded… the cruel taunts of demons… he was trapped, helpless…_  No, he had to hold on, or there would be no one to protect his friend...

"What about the human?" one demon shouted above the others. "We don't need him! I got dibs on ripping his guts out!"

He probably would have done so, too. The demons were in no way stopped by the holy fire, and Castiel knew the threat was  _very_ real. If all the demons surged in, how was he going to stop them from killing Dean?! There were too many!

Furious, trapped, and frightened for Dean, Castiel could feel that now-familiar burn that shot from his heart to the back of his shoulders. He couldn't stop it, and his mind cried out with fear at this loss of control but he pushed that down. All that mattered was protecting Dean, and the wings burst through his shirt and coat yet again as he pushed the human down to the ground, kneeling over him. Confined by the burning oil, the wings angled forwards, wrapping inward to create a wide shield around Dean.

They'd have to get through him, first.

The demons fell silent in the face of his wings, eyes wide in the same ravenous fascination that seemed to take every demon when faced with an angel's wings. Cas's breath caught in his chest, though all his expression showed was his rage, not his fear. His bloodied angel blade was still extended towards the demons, one hand on Dean,  _daring_  any demon to get in too close.

"Cas!" Dean shouted at him from the floor, struggling slightly against the angel's wrought-iron grip. "Cas, cut me loose, I can fight!"

Only, Castiel couldn't cut him loose. He couldn't move at all. He felt cold, a chill slithering down his spine; all those demons were staring at the wings so avidly, so  _eagerly_ , that he had to choke back a sob. He couldn't abide those stares, couldn't  _stand_  for all that dark attention to be directed at him, but he didn't move or flinch.

He couldn't.

"Cas, cut me  _loose_!"

But… he  _couldn't_. It wasn't his terror holding him back, it was some unseen power actively, physically restraining him.

"Dean!" Cas tried to bite back his fear, but he knew his voice was trembling.

"Cas?!"

"Dean… I can't move. Dean, I  _can't move!_ "

He was fighting now, Castiel was truly fighting, but he seemed to be locked in place. He couldn't hide his wings, he couldn't move his hand to cut Dean free. Jimmy's body wasn't listening to him, held trapped in place by some force that he couldn't see. Everything was frozen but his frantically pounding heart.

And then, from the doorway, a voice… a slithery smooth voice that chilled Castiel to the bone.

"What a peculiar thing you are…"


	8. The Beast That Dwells in Hearts So Torn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I should warn you... this is going to start getting dark. It's not pretty, so for the next few chapters, please keep that in mind and tread cautiously. Hugs. Also, quite a bit of dialogue lifted from the series here to fit into this as an AU - credit where credit is due! Consider this my take on how 5x10 COULD have gone down.

"Lucifer…" Cas's voice was barely above a whisper, still kneeling with one hand protectively on Dean and his wings helplessly exposed to the mercy of the Devil. He wondered frantically if this was just a hallucination – except if it  _had_  been, he would have never had the presence of mind to consider that possibility.

Being captured by demons was bad enough, but to be captured by Lucifer was unfathomably terrifying, and his breath shook when he inhaled. On the floor, Dean had frozen; the angel could hear, could  _feel_ the thudding of his friend's heart, and knew that he was just as frightened.

But that had never stopped Dean from opening his mouth.

"Let go of Cas, you son of a bitch!" the hunter shouted, as Lucifer was obviously the reason that Cas couldn't move. The angel desperately wished Dean would shut up, though, and not call any attention to himself whatsoever, and then maybe Lucifer would forget the human was there at all. Dean had clearly just been the bait.

Thankfully, Lucifer ignored Dean, stepping into the light of the burning holy oil and examining Cas in cool curiosity. His hand was raised, clearly using some power to hold Castiel in place. His expression was blandly intrigued, and Cas's skin crawled to be so  _examined_ by the devil himself – especially with the way Lucifer's vessel seemed to be disintegrating from the inside out a little at a time.

Castiel fought frantically to push his wings back into hiding, but it was useless. His eyes burned with panicked tears that he defiantly refused to show. Not to Lucifer. Not to the snickering demons that hemmed him in, surrounding him as they had back in the prison with Zachariah.

"Jareb did say there seemed to be something  _wrong_ with your wings," Lucifer went on conversationally, but there was a thick layer of poison hidden beneath the artificial neutrality. "If I'm not mistaken… demons?"

"Lucifer… let go…" Cas was shaking, and he wished Dean was a thousand miles from here. He wished he could  _move_! He wished Lucifer would look away, and his wings quivered with shame.

"Just stay away from him!" Dean shouted as he tried valiantly to squirm away from under Cas's frozen hand, without the use of his own. He didn't get far. Still Lucifer ignored him, zeroing right in on Cas.

"Castiel, isn't it?" he asked as though he wasn't perfectly aware of his prisoner's name. "Castiel. How very peculiar. Was it Zachariah? I'm going to guess… the demons who were supposed to collect my vessel from him. Am I right?"

"What do you want with me?" demanded Cas, though heat rose to his cheeks as the devil spoke so casually of Castiel's most terrible nightmare. He wasn't sure he wanted an answer to his question. It seemed pretty clear – here he was, utterly helpless, kneeling obediently before Lucifer in a grotesque pantomime of servitude.

Undoubtedly, that was precisely what the fallen angel wanted with him. Servitude. To join his side and fight under  _his_ command, like Jareb. It took everythingCastiel had to stop himself from averting his eyes, defiantly refusing to show even that much submission.

"It  _was_ him, wasn't it," Lucifer went on, shaking his head mournfully. "Oh, little brother…  _I_  would have never hurt you like that."

The words themselves were all fine and good, the words of a protective older brother, but Castiel could feelthe bottomless well of evil in the archangel that pressed around him like a physical presence of malice. Without even moving, Lucifer gave the impression of prowling. Castiel realized with a thrill of fear so strong it almost made him vomit that he was being hunted. Lucifer's voice was steel talons on granite, a predator stalking slowly but unstoppably toward him, and he couldn't fight.

The angel couldn't even answer, taking deep breaths as silently as he could, fighting back a panic attack. Somehow, for Lucifer to know how terrified he was would only make things worse. He longed only to take Dean and fly,  _now_ , as fast as he could… but if he tried, they would both be burned to death.

"You're not very talkative," Lucifer complained, snapping his fingers. Instantly, to Castiel's horror, Dean disappeared to pop up a second later next to the devil. The hunter gritted his teeth as he was pulled up to his knees by the surrounding demons and held in place.

"NO!" Castiel came to life, fighting even harder for control of his body, desperate to reach his friend! "No, Lucifer, please! Let him go, you've got me!" Castiel didn't even care if he was pleading,  _begging_. " _Please_! Please, just let him go!"

"Cas, no way!" Dean shouted back, struggling against the demons that held him. "Lucifer, you son of a bitch, if you touch him, I'll  _kill_ you, I swear I will!" They all knew the threat was an empty one. Beneath Dean's icy glare at the devil, Castiel could see the sheen of sweat on his brow, and he knew the bravado was just for show. Dean was as helpless as the angel, and he knew it.

Lucifer only raised an eyebrow and looked between Castiel and Dean, a hint of sardonic amusement in his voice as he replied simply,

"Loyalty. Such a nice quality to see in this day and age."

"Let him go, NOW! Leave him alone!" Dean shouted again, his eyes drifting to Cas – still kneeling on the hard, stony ground, wings shining even brighter than normal in the glare of the flames. Both of them could only imagine what would happen to Cas, if Lucifer decided to "punish" him as Zachariah had.

"Oh, Dean, calm down before you hurt yourself," Lucifer snorted, actually rolling his eyes. "I'm not going to lay a finger on either of you." His hand fell back to his side, and Cas felt the air around him warm back up. There was a rush of wind as whatever power had held him trapped vanished. He could move again.

Frantically, the angel pulled his wings in close and hid them from the physical plane with so much relief that he nearly collapsed, letting out a dry sob. His entire body was trembling, though he fought to hide that fact from his older brother and Dean.

"…You're not?" Dean didn't seem to trust the words, and neither did Castiel. Lucifer was a snake, a wolf in sheep's clothes. His most dangerous, most powerful weapon wasn't the silver blade he carried, but his silver tongue. His most deadly weapon was in convincing those around him that there was nothing to fear from him after all, that he  _wasn't_ the root of evil... that he was just... misunderstood.  _He was not to be trusted._

Lucifer was back to ignoring Dean, though, crossing his arms. His face was neutral, but ice burned in his eyes as he watched Castiel. "I don't understand why you're fighting  _me_ , of all the angels."

"You really have to ask?" Castiel spat out, voice harsh as he climbed shakily to his feet. The angel carefully stayed in the exact center of the burning circle, as though just being out of arm's reach of the demons around him would protect him at all.

"Of course. We've both been wrongfully punished, brother," Lucifer spoke out, the honeyed tongue at work again. His tone was caressing, wheedling,  _insidious,_ and Castiel felt a chill race through his veins. He had to be on guard. "Look at how bad it's gotten for you. You know, I  _am_ curious about this problem of yours. Did you mean to show your wings? That's quite unusual."

Castiel was  _not_ going to admit to the devil that it had been unintentional, that he couldn't control it anymore. He wasn't going to just hand Lucifer his weakness on a silver platter. Besides, he was certain that Lucifer knew good and well he hadn't meant for it to happen.

"What part of  _leave him alone_  didn't you understand?!" Dean snarled, fighting the demons that held him down in an attempt to lunge towards Lucifer. He got absolutely nowhere, and earned only a condescendingly amused glance from the devil before he was ignored again.

"Tell me," the fallen angel went on, turning back to Castiel. "How bad do the hallucinations get?"

"Hallucinations?" Dean picked up on this instantly, to Castiel's dismay. "Wait, Cas, what's he talking about? What hallucinations?"

He wasn't going to answer. He didn't know  _how_ Lucifer knew, but he wouldn't confirm it. Cas's face was a defiant glare, a stubbornly stoic mask to hide his mounting terror behind.

"I do know demons, Castiel," Lucifer pointed out with a chuckle. "After all, I created them. I can imagine what their touch would do to an angel. How many have gotten hurt because of this? Because of you?"

"Just stop it! Cas, don't listen to him!" Dean snapped as Castiel's very heart burned with guilt and pain.

He knew it showed in his eyes, and the angel immediately looked away, too ashamed by the truth. Too many had gotten hurt because of his  _weakness_. Too many had been lost that he  _should_ have saved.

"It doesn't have to be that way," Lucifer whispered in devastating pity, his words winding around Castiel like a python. "I can take it away, if you like."

He what? Even Dean forgot to force a brave face, staring at the devil in incomprehension. What did he mean, take it away? It was a demonic imprint, it couldn't be  _taken away_. Nothing could do that. Castiel's disbelief must have shown on his face, because Lucifer rolled his eyes again and pointed out,

"What? I'm the most powerful angel alive, and I control demons. I'm the only one who can lift the imprint out. You'd be free of the hallucinations, Castiel. No more flashbacks. Let me help you."

"And all it would cost is my servitude?!" Cas snapped, glaring with a show of courage that he didn't feel. "To  _you_?"

"Well, a bit of appreciation would be nice," Lucifer replied with a shrug. Beside him, Dean resumed his struggle to throw the demons off of him, yelling,

"Cas, don't listen to him!"

The warning was unnecessary, though. Castiel could almost feelthe tendrils of Lucifer's influence caressing over his skin, making him shudder. He wouldn't listen, and he would make no deal. Lucifer would kill him, in the end, undoubtedly… but maybe he could get Dean to safety first.

"You need my help, Castiel," Lucifer whispered. "All I ask is that when the time comes, you fight by my side, my brother. And in return… I can make all of this go away. I can see the corruption on you, I know what it's doing to you. I can restore your grace, too. I'm an archangel, I still have all  _my_  power, and I can share it with you, fuelyou, even cut off from Heaven. Haven't you wondered why Jareb is still as strong as ever? He's sworn to me, and I provide for him."

His grace… oh, but if only it was true, if only he  _could_ have it back, but Cas wasn't deceived. To let the Devil give him power was to let him in, and it would only take once to be utterly lost.

"I can make it all better, Castiel," Lucifer went on. "All you have to do is follow me and help me end the corruption of Heaven. That's not so much to ask, in the end."

"And if I say no, you kill us?!"

"Of course not, don't be so dramatic. I will have to insist that you both stay with me, of course," the devil answered, looking more apologetic than Castiel believed he was. "I'm sure you understand why I can't let you leave here if you plan on interfering, but there's no need for it to be unpleasant. You're my brother. I'm trying to  _help_  you. Let me take it all away."

"Cas, don't!"

The angel  _really_ wished Dean would stay out of this. He had absolutely no intention of giving in to Lucifer, but he didn't want the Devil to think that was somehow Dean's fault, and take it out on him. Castiel ignored his friend as much as he could, trying to stand strong so that Lucifer would see that it was all his own will, not Dean's.

"No _._ "

But Lucifer didn't look angered, only confident, and that scared Cas. "Don't be selfish, Castiel," Lucifer reprimanded him silkily. "Every second you refuse to let me heal you, you're putting others in danger. I can take it away. I can help you save them. That's what you want, isn't it?"

Castiel's heart broke, ground into the dirt with every word his older brother said. He wantedhis grace back, he wanted it so terribly that just to say "no" made him want to die. He wanted to be free of this terrible corruption that caused him to live half in a nightmare world. More than anything, he wanted to be able to heal again. He wanted to have the strength to protect humans like Tricia Norman, humans like his new-found family.

No matter what else Lucifer might be, he wasright: Cas was putting others in danger. He'd known that all along, since the flashbacks started. Tricia was his fault… it had been his weakness that caused her to die. Lucifer  _could_ restore his grace… but the price was too high. Castiel wanted to crumble, knowing he was giving up his only chance at being a realangel again.

Except, he wouldn't be a real angel. Not really. Not if he ended up like Jareb, working against everything an angel was supposed to be. What was the use in being able to heal, if he turned into something that would only kill? He could choose Lucifer's darkness, but at the cost of becoming a monster himself.

"I said no!" Cas shouted, his voice laced with agony as it echoed through the frigid basement. "I don't want anything from you!" No deals with the Devil. Not now, not ever.

"You need me." The voice was a sibilant hiss, infused with power, but Castiel would not be influenced.

"No!"

Even now, Lucifer didn't seem truly upset, though he sighed. His tone became remorseful, but Cas sensed an eagerness that petrified him. He hated himself for cringing back in fear when Lucifer took a step forward.

"I didn't want to do this, Castiel," he said ominously as Dean started shouting again in the background. "Maybe you just don't really realize yet exactly how much danger you're putting people in. If you need proof, then so be it, but just remember that  _I_ wanted to play nice. I wonder… is this what it was like when Zachariah had you?"

Castiel inhaled sharply, wide eyes reflecting terror in the flickering flames as he started to turn a slow circle, following Lucifer with his gaze. The older angel prowled around the burning oil, icy eyes locked onto his captive as he spoke shrewdly.

"I'm guessing you were probably chained up, right?"

"Don't," Cas whispered, his voice weak as he struggled in vain to stop the images from starting. He  _felt_ hands on him, though he tried to remind himself that it wasn't real. "No..." He had to focus. He- he had to fight. He...

_He was kneeling, a tear slipping down his cheek, hands chained to the floor in unforgiving metal that was branded with sigils to prevent his escape. Zachariah stood over him, and Cas was trapped-_

"Were you afraid?"

_-and he was so afraid. Zachariah had forced his wings out, and Sam was trying to reach him from the cell, shouting for him. Cas couldn't do this again, he was giving up-_

"Were you sickened? Degraded?"

_-especially when the hands fell onto his wings. He felt sick. It was so degrading, so violating. There were demon hands on his pure wings, touching his SOUL as he was not meant to be touched. They owned him. They shamed him-_

"Did you ask them to stop?"

_-as he asked for it to stop._

"Beg?"

_"Zachariah… brother, don't do this!"_

"Plead?"

_"PLEASE, please, no! No!"_

"What did it  _feel_ like, with their hands on your soul? Can you still feel them, even now?"

_No! No, no… Cas writhed on the floor, trying so hard to fight his way free, but he was sobbing as he felt the hands caressing his wings. "Please!" he cried out again, then shouted helplessly as a rush of nausea overcame him. They were touching him, oh god, they were touching him and it was so terrible that he wanted to die. There was nothing, nothing in existence, that could have been more shameful than this, and he sobbed again._

"Did they make you watch?"

_"Eyes open, sweetheart. Watch him. I said, eyes OPEN!"_

"You son of a bitch!" Dean was watching the entire encounter and shouting the whole time, held back by three demons now to stop him from tackling Lucifer. He could see the terror in Cas's eyes, but he could also see the emptiness, and he knew the angel was lost from reality. He recognized the look: Cas was trapped in a flashback, and Dean had to pull him out!

With a careless wave of the hand, Lucifer quenched the holy fire that held Castiel captive, but the angel made no attempt to fly. He didn't even seem to realize it was gone, because he clearly didn't even know where he was. Lucifer was instigatingthe flashback, intentionally feeding Cas all the cues that would sink him even deeper in.

Dean fought, but got nowhere. He watched with helpless rage as Lucifer kept circling Cas, whispering to the pleading, sobbing angel.

"How helpless did you feel, Castiel?" he crooned softly. "How humiliated were you, to submit to demons? A high and lofty angel, a so-called "warrior of God", held down for mere demons to enjoy. What was that like? Did they tell you that you were worthless? Did they laugh when you tried to fight?"

"No… no, please! Get off of me! No,  _get off of me, PLEASE_!" Castiel cried out brokenly, sinking to his knees - but he wasn't talking to Lucifer. He was talking to invisible foes that existed only in his mind. Dean felt sick, a hole in his stomach as he listened to his best friend's nightmare. Bile rose in his throat, remembering what Lucifer had said about hallucinations, realizing far too late that all those times Cas had been nearly impossible to rouse hadn't been flashbacks at all.

They'd been hallucinations, and he couldn't even stomach the idea of what the evil taint of demon-touch might have done to Castiel's imagination… or what he was seeing now. He had to  _do_ something!

"Stop!" Dean pleaded, struggling so hard that a fourth demon had to grab him. The hunter ignored them, his intent solely on Lucifer. "Stop it, you're making it worse! Let me GO, let me get him out of it! You son of a bitch, stop it!"

Surprisingly, Lucifer actually did turn away from Cas, looking at Dean instead. "Look, I would've been happier to do this the easy way," he replied easily with a shrug, "but Castiel takes some convincing."

"Just stop," Dean begged him, shaking his head as his eyes burned with tears. He remembered how broken Cas had been after Zachariah and the demons. Forcing him to relive that and  _worse_ , it was just sick… and Dean couldn't see his best friend break like that again. "Let me snap him out of it,  _please_!"

Castiel's sobbing was filling the basement, and it burned Dean more than any weapon ever could. Every second of Cas's obvious agony was torture to the hunter, but Lucifer was callously unperturbed.

"Oh…" he replied with a mocking tone of thoughtfulness as he rubbed his chin. "How about we let him think it over for a while first. This is a big decision, after all. I could come back in a couple of hours, I suppose, and let you wake him up."

A couple HOURS?! Dean stared at Lucifer in unadulterated horror, listening to another scream tear from Cas's throat, followed by an anguished, terrified moan. Cas was always shaken after a few  _minutes_  in a flashback. Would he even survive for a couple hours like this?

"He's  _hallucinating_!" Dean bellowed in protest. "You can't leave him like this! You're torturing him!"

"Don't be silly, I'm not even touching him.  _I'm_  not doing this, he's been having hallucinations for months now, you know." Lucifer paused, raising a contemplative eyebrow as he added cruelly, "My, this one seems pretty bad, doesn't it? Wonder what he's imagining."

Lucifer was enjoying this. The sick bastard was enjoying this, just as much as Zachariah had enjoyed what  _he_ had done to Cas. This wasn't meant to persuade Cas of anything, it was wanton cruelty for cruelty's sake.

There were tears on both Dean and Cas's faces, as the hunter managed to snarl defiantly, "You'll never get him. He'll  _never_ fight for you. You'll never have Cas, not really!" No more than the angels had.

They'd tortured him back to obedience nine times, and still never fully won.

Neither would Lucifer.

Perhaps taunting the devil wasn't the best idea he'd ever had, and when Lucifer turned to face him again, the expression on his face had Dean instantly freezing in spite of himself. There were still four demons keeping him in place, and now Dean was starting to wish he'd kept his mouth shut.

"You know, Dean…" Lucifer started, an ugly tone in his voice that gave Dean a shiver of fear. "You're one of the main reasons Sam hasn't said yes to me yet."

 _Translation_ , Dean thought: _you're in my way, and I don't like it._ This was not a safe place to be, not at all. He was distracted, though, when Castiel suddenly sobbed again, and cried,

"No!  _PLEASE_ , no! Don't… please, no more... just- just kill me."

That did it.

Dean couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't let Cas go through this again, and the thought of what Cas might be seeing broke him. "You said you wouldn't hurt Cas," Dean pleaded desperately, wishing he could shut out the sound of his friend's anguished cries, the sight of tears streaming down the angel's face. "Well, listen to him... you're  _hurting_  him! Please..."

Lucifer shrugged, looking up at the ceiling thoughtfully. "Actually, what I said was that I wouldn't lay a finger on him," he pointed out in a casually innocent voice. He gestured to Cas, not bound or restrained in any way, not a mark on him. Not even the holy fire, now. "And look, I haven't. You see, Dean, I'm an angel of my word."

"Kiss my lily white ass, you son of a bitch," Dean snarled. This was still torture, whether Lucifer ever got close or not. Deliberately leaving Cas in a hallucination where he was being violatedover and over was torture!

His remark only earned a smirk from the devil though. "Me?" Lucifer asked lazily. "Dean, I honestly have no interest in your ass. Though I do wonder how far Castiel can be pushed."

"What do you mean  _pushed?_ "

Dean knew what was about to happen a second too late, though with his hands bound behind him it wouldn't really have mattered if he'd had more warning. There was nothing he could do to stop the demons from pitching him straight towards Cas. Try as he might, Dean couldn't keep from crashing right into the angel… who was still mid-hallucination.

And they'd already learned that physically touching the angel when he was in a flashback was the absolute most dangerous thing they could have done.


	9. When Light is Gone and Hope is Thin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Trigger warnings apply. While there is nothing sexually explicit in any of this chapter (or any of these fics, for that matter) please remember that what the demons/Zachariah did to Cas was about domination, violation, and humiliation, very similar to rape. If you're in a place right now where that's too much to read, or would be a bad trigger, please feel free to skip the first half to avoid the worst of it.

They were all around him. It wasn't just one or two, he was FLOODED with demons, swarming him, covering him with masses of groping hands. Castiel cried out, feeling their foul touch that nothing could scrub clean. He was chained, hands bound behind him; he was kneeling on the floor, another short chain linking from the rocky ground to a metal ring around his neck. It kept him leaning forward, bowed low, helpless, submissive.

His wings, shuddering with horror, were being pulled outward, held out as the demons cackled and tore through them. It felt like it had been days, maybe even months, that they had been on top of him, violating his soul by the mere presence of their hands on his wings. The demons jeered triumphantly at him as his struggles got weaker, and he looked around in terror for some sort of escape. What he saw instead stopped his heart.

"No…" Castiel whispered, swallowed by fear. "No, please!"

Dean and Sam, unconscious and unable to fight, were held suspended by the demons. Their captors laughed, delighted by his terror, ready to snap the brothers' necks before his very eyes, and he could do nothing. Not this…  _anything_  but this.

"Open up, sweetheart," a demon giggled, standing in front of the captured angel. "Come on, let's see those wings, show me the goods. Open 'em up, or I'm gonna eat Dean Winchester's guts right here in front of you."

Nothing, not demons, not Zachariah, not even Lucifer, frightened Castiel more than watching Dean and Sam be hurt or killed because of him. And once they  _were_ dead, he would be all alone, with nothing, no one, even if he did manage to escape. They didn't deserve to die, and he would do whatever it took to protect them, even this, but his face was burning with humiliation as the demon cackled again and grabbed a chunk of Castiel's hair, pushing his face down towards the harsh rock.

"Obey me!" he commanded. "Wings!"

Castiel longed for physical torture instead, so much easier to withstand. The cruelty of their domination brought tears of shame to his eyes, but the angel slowly unfurled his trembling wings once again to spare Dean and Sam. Having his wings forced open while he fought was bad enough, but making him compliantly do it himself, obeying a  _DEMON'S_ command, was a million times more humiliating.

"Please don't…please…"

Castiel felt so weak, so helpless, so unable to fight. Demons circled him, laughing, shouting at him, calling him names. Castiel didn't give a damn what they called him or what they said; it was the feeling of their corruption on his soul that he feared. It was the violation that made him shudder, it was being dominated by demons. Inside, the darkness grew, ravenous, fed by the terror and rage and agony that he felt.

So, when the demon jumped on him, and Castiel realized that he was suddenly free, he didn't hesitate. He was an  _angel_ , and he would teach this demon to fear him. The darkness clawed at his insides, and he gave in to it, feeling it empowering him and fuel his tormented soul.

With a furious shout, Cas grabbed the demon's throat in one hand, half crazed with vengeance as he slammed his fist into the demon's face. It cried out, gasping and trying to wriggle free.

"Cas!" the demon yelled. "Stop!"

"Don't you darecall me that!" The nickname belonged to his humans! Only Dean and Sam had the right to use that name, not this filth! It was protesting, pleading, but Castiel wasn't listening to a word. The terror and pain he'd felt was transformed instantly to blind rage, a fury that overwhelmed all senses.

 _This_ demon would never use him as his sick entertainment ever again, and Castiel let his fist fly again,  _again_ , and  _AGAIN,_  until the demon hit the floor. The demon was bound, his hands tied behind him, so it was  _his_ turn to be helpless instead of Castiel,  _his_ turn to know what fear was!

The others must have fled, because they were alone now. Cas grabbed the demon by a chunk of hair and his bound hands, and threw him hard to slam into the wall, then sink to the floor. It was still saying his name, his  _nickname_ , which only infuriated the angel more. How  _dare_  he call him Cas?!

"You have no right," the angel hissed, as dangerous as the day when he had defeated Zachariah. He was going to kill this demon. Storming forward, Castiel towered over the demon, who looked up at him with a pleading expression. "What you  _did_ to me…"

"Cas, no! Please,  _look_ at me, it's me, it's Dean-"

"DON'T SAY HIS NAME!" roared Castiel, kicking the demon in the stomach so that it choked and tried to curl up, gasping for air. How  _dare_ he try to play with his mind by pretending to be his best friend?! Castiel could  _see_ the demon, and it wasn't Dean! It wasn't Dean's face, wasn't Dean's voice, and Dean wouldn't have tortured him like this demon just had!

 _"Remember what he did to you?"_ a voice whispered from somewhere far away.  _"They don't fear you anymore. Make them remember why angels are feared. Pay him back in kind."_

The angel hoisted him up in one hand by the throat, slamming him against the wall, face dark and terrible. "I should pay you back in kind," he hissed at the frantically fighting demon, pinning him harshly. "I should tie  _you_ down and rip  _your_ dignity away."

"No, damn it, listento me!"

He heard laughter in the background, black and cold and infinitely cruel. They had laughed like that before, when they had forced him to watch as they fondled and stroked his wings. They had ripped into him, humiliated him, and they'd  _laughed_ with delight.

How would the demon like to feel that happen to  _him_  instead? It was  _his_  turn to be at someone else's mercy, and the angel did not feel merciful. Castiel threw the demon into one of the many crates littering the room. With one hand, he clenched his fist in the demon's hair again and shoved its head down, forcing it to stay on its stomach, bent over the crate in an unmistakably submissive position that made the demon freeze with a choked gasp. With his other hand, Cas grabbed his angel blade, holding it against the demon's cheek.

_"Prove you're not weak by overpowering him. Prove you're not submissive by dominating him. Prove you're not broken by breaking him."_

"No!  _No,_ Cas! Lucifer, you  _son of a bitch_ -"

_"Show him how humiliating submission can be."_

Castiel knew that insidiously whispering voice from somewhere, but that didn't matter now. This demon deserved it, and far worse.  _"Break him the same way they broke you."_

"I should show you exactly what it feels like for someone to force their domination over you," the angel growled to his captive as his hand tightened. "I should show you how humiliating submission can be. I should  _break_ you the same way you broke me." The blinding hatred felt  _good_ ; he didn't have to think, he didn't have to feel, he only had to react. He could have vengeance, he could take  _everything_ from this demon.

" _What_?! Cas, wait,  _wait,_   _no_. God, please no, please don't do this. Snap out of it! Cas, this isn't you!" The demon sounded truly frightened now, and a feeling of dark satisfaction rose in the angel. Now the demon was shaking with the same fear Cas had felt, straining even harder in desperation against the ropes that kept its hands helplessly lashed behind him, but Castiel leaned over him and pushed the demon's head more forcefully into the crate. It wasn't going anywhere.

"Eyes open, sweetheart," he spat out, throwing the very words the demon had spoken to  _him_ back in his face. The memory made Castiel shudder with unending pain, feeling the corrupting presence of the demons running over his wings all over again. He felt their hands, touching him and petting him, playing with the feathers of the wings they had no right to touch at all. Every bit of that pain and humiliation fed his darkness and drove him on.

Now he could exact some vengeance, as he glared down at the demon who had so horrifyingly abused him.

"Cas… oh god,  _don't_ … please, man,  _please_  snap outta this, I'm begging you. It's  _me_. I'm not a demon, it's Dean!  _Fight_ this! This isn't you, you  _help_ people, you would never hurt anyone like  _this_! Cas, please, you wouldn't  _do_ this, you're an angel!"

_"Mr. Angel!"_

_A sudden feeling of warmth and safety that was so out of place it made Cas briefly freeze. He was an ANGEL, and it was his job to protect, even if his brethren had forgotten that. Something else inside of Castiel stirred, something that wasn't darkness at all._

What  _was_  that? He'd heard the voice, but it was too quiet, too soft, too far away and fleeting for him to fully recognize or hold on to for long, and the feeling passed… vague and distant, a dream within a dream.

"No more talking, you piece of filth," Castiel growled, keeping the demon forced down, pressing in close behind him. He felt it shaking in sick terror and was gratified by its fear.

"No, Cas! Cas! This isn't you, you're betterthan this. Lucifer is doing this to you! Don't do this, it's Dean! Cas, please! Don't, it's  _Dean_!"

But that was exactly what a demon  _would_ say, knowing how fully it would destroy him, and Castiel didn't budge. His hand tightened in the demon's short hair, drawing a gasp of pain from his prisoner. The beast within him wanted to hurt this demon in every possible way, but there was still a light burning inside his heart, faint and flickering but strong enough to stay Castiel's hand. He was an angel and he had never had any plans of lowering himself to this. The demon knew fear now, and that was all he'd truly been after - regardless of the tempting suggestions he kept hearing.

"Don't worry," the angel snarled in disgust, leaning down close to the demon's ear. "I would  _never_ do to you what you did to me, no matter what kind of filthyou are."

The demon sagged, seeming relieved, but Castiel ignored this. He couldhave become like the corrupted angels, of course. He couldhave made excuses: it was just a demon, it was revenge, it was justified. Castiel could have let the vengeance and the bitterness overtake him completely, and he could have done terrible things because of it.

But Castiel wasn't Zachariah… and he wasn't a demon. He was an angel, designed to protect, a guardian. No matter how good the blind hatred felt, that wasn't who he was.

He was  _Castiel_ , and he had to hold onto that. He could not turn into something else. For Dean and Sam – for  _himself –_  he had to hold on, and not fall  _that_ far.

"I'm going to kill you," Castiel snarled instead, feeling the demon go limp in his grip. Harshly, he flipped the demon over onto its back so hard that it groaned in pain. He wanted the demon to look in his eyes and  _see_ who was killing him, the same angel that this abomination had tortured! As Castiel brought the angel blade up in the air, looming over the now motionless demon, their eyes connected, black burning into bright blue. Castiel had expected the demon to show fear, anger, hostility. Instead, its expression was resigned, even… sad. It must have known it had no chance of escape or breaking free.

"Cas…" it softly murmured, voice breaking. "When you wake up… just know that… this wasn't your fault. You didn't kill me,  _Lucifer_ did. It's… it's not your fault. You have to believe that."

This time, Castiel paused, frowning. He didn't understand. A demon would mess with his mind, try to pretend to be Dean in order to save its own skin. But a demon wouldn't say  _that_. A demon wouldn't even think to say that. Castiel was confused, because now the demon  _did_ sound like Dean, but it wasn't him.

_"Mr. Angel!" Feelings of trust and awe- but the feeling was too weak, drowned out by the overpowering darkness, and it flitted away before Cas could pull that feeling into himself._

Damn it, what  _was_ that? Castiel shook his head, trying to fight through the increasing fuzziness of his mind. Who was talking? But he couldn't worry about that right now. Why did the demon sound like Dean? Where  _was_ Dean?

Castiel stared at his prisoner, pinned down over a crate with its hands tied tightly beneath him. How had the demon gotten tied up in the first place? Castiel didn't remember doing that. Where were the other demons? Had they run off when they saw Cas was loose?

Why was the demon saying it wasn't his fault?

Why did he sound like Dean?

He even had the same hair as Dean, short and spiky; Castiel could feel it in his grip. It was Dean's hair. It was wearing Dean's jacket, Dean  _always_ had that jacket on. Had the demon stolen it from him? But now the demon even had Dean's eyes… not black, but green, looking up at him with sadness and fear and  _forgiveness_.

No demon, no matter how cruel, no matter how clever, could put on an expression of such deep forgiveness, and Castiel suddenly realized with a crushing, terrible pit in his stomach that this wasn't a demon at all.

The hell he'd thought he'd seen faded from his view, and the air began to clear. Castiel was still gripping  _whoever this was_ , as he fought against the disorientation that always accompanied a return to reality. Hallucination… it had to have been a hallucination, but they had neverbeen so vivid before; that was when Castiel remembered Lucifer.

Lucifer… he had used his own power to amplify the demonic corruption that tainted Castiel, to heighten the vision and lock him inside of it. Lucifer had done this. And the demon…

"No," Cas whispered, looking down once again at the man he had beaten and pinned and nearly  _killed_. "No… no." What had he done? The angel blade clattered to the floor from his shaking hand as he released the man, stumbling back a step. His eyes widened in horror, in regret so deep that it nearly claimed his entire consciousness. What had he done?

The man, with his hands bound helplessly behind him, with a face now covered in bruises and blood, forced over a crate in Castiel's furious display of dominance…  _was_  Dean.

He'd beaten Dean bloody. Trapped in the hallucination, thinking he was being attacked by demons, Castiel had fought back only to realize it was  _Dean_. Lucifer had thrown Dean in with no way to defend himself, and Castiel's own hands were responsible for this.

The ring of holy fire was lit once more, encircling both of them. The hunter was too weak to even move as the flames sprang up to illuminate the darkening bruises; he stayed across the crate in obvious agony, concentrating on breathing. Castiel ignored Lucifer and the demons completely, his trembling hands taking Dean as gently as he could and gathering him up.

"I-I'm sorry," the angel whispered, voice breaking as tears came to his eyes. He had done this. He'd done this to Dean. "I'm sorry, Dean, I'm so sorry…" Over and over, he kept murmuring his apologies brokenly, pleadingly. Dean was wincing with pain as Castiel lowered him to the ground, then knelt beside his friend. Cas saw him flinch at his touch and try to pull away, and it was like an angel blade to the heart.

How could Dean  _ever_ forgive him for this, Castiel wondered heartbrokenly? Desperately, he tore at the ropes that kept the hunter's hands bound behind him, fumbling with shaking fingers, trembling too much to risk using the blade. He didn't even know he was whispering "please" over and over again until Dean muttered thickly,

"Cas, 'm fine."

Yes, he was fine, in the way Winchesters were always "fine"… which meant not fine at all. Castiel managed to free Dean's hands at last, wishing he could heal even his wrists, shredded and dripping with blood from how hard Dean had fought to free himself. He must have been terrified, with Castiel standing over him like he had, hurting him, threatening him. Now he wasn't  _quite_ looking at the angel, and the blade in Cas's heart twisted.

If Lucifer had wanted to break him, he was succeeding.

"You see, Castiel," the devil quietly spoke up, as though reading Castiel's thoughts. "He's in danger as long as he's around you. Just let me help you. I can take it all away. You would never have to worry about hurting him, or Sam, ever again. Don't you want to be free of this?"

" _You_ did this," Castiel whispered, tear-filled glare directed over his shoulder at Lucifer before turning his attention back to Dean. If only he could shut out his fallen brother's voice, soft and smooth, silver and honey, deceit and lies. If only he could convince himself that it  _was_ Lucifer's fault, and not his own, for Dean's condition – at least a few broken ribs, his bleeding and torn wrists, who knew what sort of internal damage, and probably a world of pain.

That was just the physical damage.

"No, Castiel," Lucifer sorrowfully replied. "You did. I'm sorry it had to be this way, but you needed to see the actual danger. How else can I get you to see how badly you need my help? You did this, and you'll do it again. Who knows… you may not be able to stop yourself next time."

But Castiel could hear the disappointment and he wasn't deceived. Lucifer had hopedhe would kill Dean or worse, knowing how fully broken the angel would then be… how pliable. These were tricks, nothing but tricks, and Cas looked his brother right in the eyes before growling,

"I will  _never_ serve you. I'll die first."

Lucifer examined him for a moment, studying Castiel, before shrugging in disappointment and turning his back. "Yes, I suppose you will," he said, voice losing some of its honeyed poison to reveal a more straightforward animosity. He snapped his fingers and Cas's blade was gone, leaving them weaponless. The demons hurried to open the door for him, but Lucifer paused before walking out. He chuckled, then glanced over his shoulder with disdain and cruelty only barely masked in his eyes.

"You know," he tossed out casually, "for a second there, I thought you might actually do it."

He turned on his heel and was gone, but his parting shot had fulfilled its purpose: on the ground, curled up in pain, Dean let out a choked sound somewhere between a gasp and a sob… and Castiel knew with a broken heart that for a second there, Dean had thought so, too.


	10. Find a Reason to Hold On

"I don't like this," Sam growled for the twentieth time as he once again looked out the window of the hotel the four had been staying in. There was no logical reason to be checking the parking lot for Dean and Cas – the angel wouldn't fly them to the parking lot, he'd fly them into the room.

But it was already three in the morning, hours passed the agreed time to meet up, and no Dean or Cas. So where were they?

"Neither do I," agreed Terriel, standing in the center of the room with his usual look of intense concentration. "You've tried to reach your brother?"

"I've called _every_ cell phone we have!" the hunter snapped. "Three times! I left him a message on _all_ of them! He never takes this long to call back. He _knows_ we have to check in regularly when we're split up. That was his rule to begin with, so where are they?! Terry, can you hear Cas on Angel Radio?"

With a sigh, Terriel closed his eyes, the crease between his brows deepening as he concentrated even harder. Sam watched him with a worried glare, waiting to hear some good news, waiting to hear that Cas and Terry were still in communication and all the cell signals had been knocked out or something…

…but the other angel just shook his head in obvious frustration.

"No," he replied with a frown. "I've been calling out to him since we left Oregon, but he hasn't answered. This isn't like Castiel."

"Terry, something's happened to them. We need to find them, _now_. I'm not losing them, Terry, I'm _not_!"

Sam was going out of his mind, pacing back to the far wall and then hurrying to the window again to check the parking lot. Just in case. There was nothing, and he ran his hands anxiously through his hair. The angel was watching him, still frowning.

"If they aren't answering, they've most likely been captured or killed," he pointed out, which was NOT HELPFUL.

"They haven't been killed!" shouted Sam, his heart quaking at the mere thought. "They can't be dead, you don't understand, I _can't_ lose them, Terriel!"

"Sam-"

"NO! I can't do this without them! We _need_ each other!" Sam had rarely been so frightened. Knowing Dean was in trouble was always bad enough, but this _not_ knowing was even worse. He didn't know where Dean or Cas were, he didn't know what was happening to them, he didn't know how long he had before it was too late, and he had no idea where to start.

All he did know was that the first time he'd lost Dean, stuck in the Trickster's time loop, he'd turned into a sociopathic killing machine.

The second time he'd lost Dean, he'd turned into a delusional blood-drinking junkie and ended up releasing Lucifer in the first place.

Dean was his brother, and Cas was as good as, and they kept each other human. Sam _could not_ lose them now, not now! They were a family, they needed each other, and if he didn't get them back then Sam didn't know what he would do!

Terriel didn't say anything for a moment, as Sam ran his hands through his hair again. The hunter gave himself a shake and exhaled sharply. He needed to focus. He needed to do what he was best at, and _think_. Dean and Cas's lives might depend on it, because they WERE alive.

They had to be.

"Ok," he muttered out loud, voice a little stronger but still shaky. "Ok… Terry, where did you hear from them last?"

"Eastover, South Carolina," the angel replied instantly, pointing to a colored spot on the map of vessels that was spread out on the hotel wall. "Castiel told me they were going to check one more place after that if the twin brothers were safe. I never heard if they were."

"Ok. We need to go there and pick up the trail. Can you-"

They were flying before Sam had even finished the question. He stumbled slightly on the landing, from the sheer velocity of Terry's flight; the angel must have been as worried as Sam was himself. By the time the hunter had found his footing, the stench of blood and death hit his nostrils, and he blanched.

"Oh, God, is that…"

"Yes." Terriel's voice was hard, and Sam whipped around to see him… and the two bloody corpses that was sprawled on the living room floor, illuminated in the dark by pale moonlight through the window. The angel looked furious and saddened, shaking his head. "Martin Gibbs," he announced, standing over one of the bodies. "Barachiel's vessel. Another powerful one. This other human was possessed by a demon. I can still smell the sulfur."

"Does this Barachiel have any connection to Jareb?" Sam asked, squatting down next to the vessel's body. The throat had been slashed – definitely killed by a demon. The same demon who was dead on the floor beside him?

Terriel was silent, and then softly replied, "None that I know of." There was a sound of crackling electricity. Sam looked up to see the lamps on the table nearby flicker, then he saw Terriel's clenched fists.

He frowned. "Terry?"

"We're supposed to _protect_ them," the angel hissed, eyes growing dark. "Not sell them out to demons. Why is he _doing_ this?!"

"We'll ask him when we find him," Sam muttered. A better question at the moment was, had Dean and Cas been here before or after Martin and the demon were killed? The hunter straightened, hurrying to the wall to flip the light switch, flooding the room with light. His quick eyes took in the scene, and he gasped.

"What?" asked Terriel, turning as Sam raced back to the corpse of Martin Gibbs. "Sam?"

"Dean!"

Sam swore in frustration as he picked up the nickel-plated Colt .45 from the pool of Martin's blood, grimacing when it stuck slightly in the congealed mess. This was Dean's gun. There was no way, absolutely no way, that he would leave it like this.

"DAMN it!" Sam snarled, standing back up and looking around frantically for any other clues.

"Sam, this is good," Terriel pointed out, also looking around. "Whatever went wrong, it happened _here_ , but look; Dean's body isn't here. I see no wing-marks, so Castiel is alive as well – or they were killed somewhere else. Whatever happened, they were both alive when they left here."

 _Figure this out, Sam_ , the hunter thought, closing his eyes and holding his hands up as he tried to visualize what might have happened. Terriel had fallen silent, apparently giving him a minute to think.

The gun had been laying _in_ the pool of blood. Sticky. Old. Martin had been dead for a while, and the blood had been there before the gun. Dean had found Martin and must have gone over to check the body. The demon… had still been there? Had come back? Dean had been taken by surprise, because he hadn't used the gun; the magazine was full.

Not that normal bullets would do anything against a demon, but Dean carried that thing like a safety blanket, and he would have used it to slow the demons down while he called for Cas.

Called Cas…

Sam opened his eyes, this time squinting down at the demon. He rolled the body over, instantly noting the burned out eye-sockets. Death by angel.

"So either Cas killed him," Sam muttered, half to himself, "or maybe Jareb did. Was he dead or alive when Dean got here?"

"Martin Gibbs was killed seven hours ago," Terriel informed him after taking a deep inhale. "The possessed man has only been dead for five, and that's a little after Castiel contacted me last."

"So Cas is probably the one who- wait, you can tell that by… smelling?" Sam couldn't help but blink, turning back to the angel in surprise. Terriel returned the look, confused.

"Well… yes. Can't you?"

Sam stared at him for a second, then turned back to the scene, shaking his head. Wow. "So it was probably Cas who killed this one. But the whole point was to get one alive, so he must have had no choice."

"Then Dean was in danger," agreed Terriel. "I've seen Castiel when he's around you two. The bond is remarkable, truly remarkable. I believe you're right, Sam. I believe Castiel did smite this demon, but more must have come. The demons, and possibly Jareb himself, must have taken them."

"Yeah, but _where_!? And…" Sam trailed off, turning slowly back to Terriel as he finally saw what should have been blatantly obvious. His eyes narrowed, lips pursing slightly as he repeated, "Martin was killed… seven hours ago."

"Yes, or thereabouts. I suppose the odor of putrefaction may not be as clear to your senses yet, but you can smell the intestinal bacteria beginning to-"

"But the demon was killed _five_ hours ago," Sam cut him off with a raised hand. He really didn't want to think about what Martin's intestinal bacteria might be doing or what that smelled like.

"Yes." Terriel paused, studying the hunter carefully. "Why, what are you thinking, Sam?"

He was thinking that this wasn't good, that's what he was thinking. Sam closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, as he groaned. "Damn it… Terry, this was a trap. Martin was already dead, so why was the demon hanging around two hours later? They were waiting for someone to come."

It also meant that Dean and Cas had been in the enemies' hands for five hours now, and Sam didn't want to think about that. Besides, it still didn't tell them where any of them were now. Terriel couldn't hear Cas, and the angel would have certainly been calling for help, which meant he was blocked – or killed elsewhere.

No, he didn't want to think about that either.

"But they wouldn't have known any of us would be coming to this vessel in particular." Terry's eyes lit up suddenly, and he straightened. "Which means, there were probably multiple traps set."

"So there might still be some demons sitting around for us to grab…" Sam saw where Terry was going with this, and a grim expression settled onto his face. "And they would know exactly where Dean and Cas would have been taken."

So they would just have to find one.

* * *

Dean felt like his body was on fire, like he was just one massive black and blue bruise. It hurt just to lie there, but it hurt even worse to move. Every time he took a breath in, it felt like his broken ribs were jamming right through his lungs - which was a very real risk. It took everything he had not to hiss in pain as Cas wrapped torn strips of his shirt around Dean's still bleeding wrists.

"I'm sorry..." Cas whispered again, voice catching as he kept clumsily winding the strips of cloth. Dean just shook his head, watching the angel work. They were still surrounded by the fiery ring of holy oil. On the other side were at least a half dozen demons ready to replenish the oil if it burned too low, occasionally hurling taunts or insults their way but mostly ignoring them.

"S'ok... 'm fine," Dean whispered back, which was a complete lie. Dean was far from fine, but he knew Cas. The angel wasn't talking except to say he was sorry, over and over, and he wasn't looking at Dean. He was falling to pieces, just like he had after Zachariah. Dean wanted nothing more than to convince him that it wasn't that bad in spite of how shaken he truly was, and he tried hard to stay calm.

It was just like taking care of Sammy as a kid - if he stayed calm, Sammy would stay calm, believing there was nothing to fear.

Unfortunately, Dean's lie was less believable when he was suddenly consumed in a violent attack of coughing. He retched, rolling over quickly as bright red blood spilled from his mouth. Great... he was probably bleeding internally. If he wasn't so exhausted, that would really worry him.

"Dean, I..." Cas broke off, his shaking hands knotting the makeshift bandage inexpertly. Dean realized dizzily that they really should have taught him some basics of human first aid; he'd never needed to learn such things as an angel.

Too late now.

"Cas, I'm-" But another spasm of coughing took over, and Dean couldn't stop the agonized gasp as he felt a sharp pain in his chest and froze. Shit. If he wasn't careful, this coughing and retching really was going to make him puncture a lung, and then he'd _really_ be in trouble. Laying back on the ground, breathing heavily, Dean settled for gripping the arm of Cas's trench coat for a moment before letting his hand fall.

This was bad. Internal bleeding was serious, and if Dean _died_ from his injuries before they could escape, what would happen to Sammy? And then, Sam was going to have his hands full trying to keep Cas off the ledge... and who would be taking care of Sam, if Cas couldn't keep him from that very same ledge? That thought terrified the hunter more than the idea of dying ever could; hell, it wasn't like he'd never died before.

So, he'd just have to hold on and be sure to not die, no matter what. He had to stay awake, because as long as he was awake, Dean could force himself to stay alive. If he closed his eyes, he might not ever open them again.

Right. Eyes open. Stay alive. He could do this.

For Sammy, for Cas, by _God_ he could do this.

Cas went disturbingly quiet after that; from Dean's fetal position on the floor, he could see Cas sitting beside him, but he was so still and silent that he could have disappeared completely. The angel's head was bowed, eyes closed in defeat. Dean wanted to say something to him, but he was still trying to hold as still as possible, and what the hell was he going to say, anyway?

Nothing was going to comfort Cas, not right now. That had been one of the most terrifying moments of Dean's life, bent over a crate, so damn vulnerable, and Lucifer whispering such horrifying things in Cas's ear. But only part of that fear had been for himself; the other part had been for Cas, and what would happen when the angel eventually realized what he'd done. Dean couldn't have lived with the guilt, if the positions had been exchanged, and he doubted Cas could have either.

It was hard to focus on his surroundings with so much pain throbbing throughout his entire body. Only years upon years of extreme stubbornness and will power kept him conscious at all, fighting to stay awake and alive for his family. For over an hour - or was it five? Or maybe it was only a few minutes? - the two stayed just like that, silently fighting to emotionally and physically hold themselves together.

"So. Here you are."

Neither Dean nor Cas moved when Jareb stormed into the darkened basement and came to a stop outside of the burning holy oil. The other angel crossed his arms and glared at the two, though his focus seemed to be on Cas alone. The beaten human wasn't even spared a glance, as Dean watched him through half closed eyes.

"Castiel," Jareb sneered, shaking his head. "I still remember how highly spoken of you used to be. You used to be strong. You used to be a _fighter_ , a warrior! Now look at you. You've been reduced to this?"

Dean wanted to tell Jareb to shut up and go away, but he didn't have the energy. He thought he felt Cas shift slightly behind him, and knew with enraged dismay that the angel was probably going to take all this to heart.

"You're a disgrace, Castiel," snapped Jareb, not waiting for an argument – not that Cas was likely to give one. "You know, even before I realized how wrong we all were about Lucifer, I still had to acknowledge that at least when he fell, it was in defense of angels! He was fighting for us, angels like you and me! But you? You sold yourself out to these things! For _humans_ , Castiel! Where's your pride?! We're in the middle of a war, and you pick them! You turned your back on our brothers and sisters, and for what? _Them_?"

"Leave me alone," Cas whispered back, and Dean was horrified at the hollowness he heard in that broken voice. Lucifer had broken him, Dean could tell even as he himself faded slightly towards unconsciousness and then clawed his way back to alertness. He had to stay awake, for Cas's sake.

"You _are_ alone! Look at yourself, really look! What do you have?! The fleeting regard of some lowly humans who ruined the Earth our Father made in the first place! Your grace is all but gone, and you've got the stink of demon filth all over you! I'm surprised you can even use those wings to fly, I'm astounded they'll even pass to the ethereal plane at all after you let those demons put their hands all over them!"

There was a moment of silence, and Dean thought Cas was going to ignore the other angel. He was enraged, or as enraged as his exhausted state would let him be. For one thing, mentioning Cas's wings at all was going to earn him a death warrant; insulting those wings, even _more_ so.

But that wasn't even what hit Dean the hardest. _Fleeting regard?_ That was how Jareb would describe it? He would take the bond the Winchesters shared with Castiel, the bond that had knitted them into an odd but fierce _family_ , and call it "fleeting regard"? Dean would die for Cas, kill for Cas, and the angel had gone through hell - literally - to save him. Fleeting regard?

Moving hurt like a bitch, but Dean slowly rolled himself a full inch closer towards the angel, trying to reach out and grab his sleeve again. He needed Cas to know that Jareb was wrong. Cas knew that, right? He couldn't find Cas's arm, and the movement of rolling even that much made another wave of dizziness wash over him. Dean wondered vaguely how much blood he'd lost, seeping slowly out of his bruised innards.

"Why... why are you doing this?" Cas's voice was so full of pain and betrayal, and it broke Dean's heart. Jareb was not so moved.

"Because it's what's right! I will bring Heaven down! Because unlike _you_ , I'm not afraid to seek vengeance, and unlike _you_ , I'm strong enough to achieve it! Do you know what's happening in Heaven, Castiel?" demanded Jareb, ignoring Dean and his hateful glare. "They're torturing us, controlling us!"

"Jareb… please… Lucifer will betray you."

There was a rush of air, as though Jareb had just drawn his wings up, and Dean inadvertently cringed. But Jareb wasn't attacking, just getting on his rant.

"Lucifer is the only one who understands! What is _wrong_ with you, Castiel?! Heaven has hurt you, too, I know they have! How can you just sit back and do nothing? You're a disgrace! You're not an angel, Castiel, you're _nothing!_ You're a _coward_ , if you refuse to fight for me! I had to survive pain and torture at their hands-"

"That's what this is about? That's it? We have all had to survive pain," Castiel cried out in anguish, and Dean could definitely feel him shaking now. "What gives you the right to kill innocent humans because of it?"

There was a beat of silence, and Dean tensed up, which only added another thousand jolts of pain to his already aching body. Jareb was going to attack, he just knew it… but the holy fire was a barrier, of course, and the angel couldn't get in any more than they could get out. Good thing, too... because Dean was going to make Jareb pay for his words. Cas was many things, but he was no coward. He was no disgrace. Dean couldn't even sit up at this point, but God help Jareb if he got close enough, for saying that!

Fury rose through Dean's foggy mind, mixed with terrible fear - not fear of Jareb, not anymore. Fear that Cas would believe the cruel words, which were completely untrue. Fear that he would listen to Jareb, instead of the Winchesters, and think he actually _was_ a disgrace, or a coward. Even worse, think that _they_ thought so, too.

And yet... there was a glimmer of hope. One single solitary ray of hope: even now - even _now -_ Cas just couldn't seem to help but stand up for humanity. He was broken, so broken, but he wasn't completely gone. He was still in there somewhere, Dean just had to stay alive long enough to pull him back.

"Lucifer has offered you the chance to have everything you want," Jareb finally replied, his voice full of ice and fury. "And you've thrown it back in his face. You disgust me, you're worse than the other angels. They're just too blind to see what's happening, but you're worse because you _do_ see it, you're just too afraid to do what has to be done. You're too _weak!_ If you aren't with me, Castiel, then you're against me."

" _You're_ blind, Jareb," Cas whispered. Dean was starting to lose focus on the conversation, the pain starting to shroud his mind in an oncoming veil of unconsciousness. "You speak of Heaven controlling you, but Lucifer is controlling you, too. You've done nothing but trade one master for another."

There was a harsh laugh. "Never fear, _brother_ … I'm a free angel. Lucifer will help me have my revenge, and that's where it ends."

There was another rustle of movement: Jareb turning on his heel, storming away. Dean could see his retreating form through the flickering light, before his eyes fell closed. He heard Cas's broken voice, murmuring to an angel who wouldn't hear.

"No… that's where it begins."

Very true, Dean thought distantly, as the edges of his mind turned grey and began to disappear. The blackness was pulling him in, soothing and restful at last... he began to surrender, lulled by the sweet nothingness.

"DEAN! Dean, _PLEASE_ , please open your eyes! Dean, no... wake up, you HAVE to wake up!"

The hysterical plea ripped through the darkness, and Dean forced his eyes open against the exhaustion and desire to sink into that long, long rest. Right. He was staying awake, he remembered now. Cas was the one calling him, leaning over him with true terror in his eyes. Dean didn't know how long his eyes had even been closed for, but Cas was gripping him like he was clinging to a lifeline, and Dean gave him a weak smile.

Right. He had to stay alive. For his brothers. For a second, their eyes connected at last, and Dean nodded. _For you, Cas,_ he thought dizzily, seeing the self-hatred and hollow blankness in the angel's gaze. He wanted nothing more than to kick the angel's ass for even thinking Dean was going to leave him alone here for something as trivial as death. _For you and Sammy... I'm here..._


	11. In Darkest Hour of Desperate Need

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this chapter, just some Lucifer creepiness and a WHOLE lot of head-canon in the second bit that I couldn't resist adding :)

"Castiel. Have you thought any more about my offer?"

Lucifer's voice was deceptively relaxed, and the causal smile on his face was a lie. The laid-back exterior masked all that simmered beneath the surface. Inside, the devil was serpentine, winding around his prey with coils made of steel and ice. His entire self was centered on his target: the fallen angel who resisted him so.

He would have Castiel, despite his resistance. Lucifer had heard of this one, knew of his defiance against Zachariah and the archangels. It escaped his comprehension how any angel could stand against those tyrants, just so he could ally himself with _humans_.

But no matter. He had his own score to settle with humanity, and that would happen with or without the assistance of Castiel.

"Castiel?" he spoke again, smooth and seductive, a hypnotic force like a cobra's dance.

"The answer… is no…"

His reply was only a whisper, this fallen angel. He couldn't meet Lucifer's eyes, and the devil was pleased. Fear could be so persuasive. Jareb had not needed the scare tactics. _He_ had simply needed the right pushes, at the right time... feeding his darkness, starving his light. Sympathizing, subtly stirring pain into violence, was child's play.

Poor, suffering little Jareb had had such good intentions to start, of course.

Lucifer loved it when they had good intentions. That slippery slope paved its way to _him_ , every single time. It was how he would take Sam Winchester, in the end.

"No?" he repeated as though surprised. He watched as Dean Winchester shifted slightly from where he was curled up on the ground beside the seated angel. Lucifer smiled again, pleased that Castiel was so helpless to heal his pet human.

He was even more delighted that Castiel couldn't even _look_ at the human. Fear was lovely, but _guilt_ … aahhh, guilt. Guilt was pain, and pain was an open door that would allow any sort of darkness to slip into the mind and sedate the senses. It would slowly devour him... just as it had devoured Jareb in the end.

"Castiel," Lucifer sighed sorrowfully, slipping over the stone towards them. "My brother. I'm only trying to help you. Why do you insist on fighting me? Look at what your stubbornness causes. Look what it did to Dean."

" _You_ did this to Dean."

"But I didn't," the devil reminded him softly, seizing the opportunity as he heard the uncertainty in Castiel's voice. Castiel didn't even believe his own words, it seemed. Lucifer supposed it was time to give the fallen angel a second dose of fear; it was a game he would never tire of. "Please don't make me convince you. I don't know if Dean will survive another round of that, and I have no interest in killing him."

He _would,_ however, be ever so pleased if Castiel would simply do that himself.

The expression on the angel's face when he looked up in terror was simply delicious, and Lucifer had to restrain the smile from crossing his own face. Pain… an open door to slip through.

"No," Castiel choked out, visibly shaking. "Lucifer… y-you can't. I…"

He was broken, and the devil sighed to hide his pleasure. "I don't want to hurt either of you," he soothed. "I'm not the bad guy, Castiel, but you're putting your friends in needless danger. But, you don't want to listen to me. If you don't want to help people any more, fine, but is getting Dean killed really worth whatever pride you'd have to swallow to accept some help from me?"

"Please… just leave me alone… let him go…"

With a shrug, Lucifer stepped aside, turning his back. "Sorry," he replied; his invisible fangs were sinking into the angel's soul, crushing his spirit ever so swiftly. "I can't let you go, but I'll leave you alone. Don't worry about the demons, I told them not to get too close. You don't want to trigger another of those flashbacks, right? At least, Dean certainly hopes you don't."

The venom injected, Lucifer sidled through the doorway, finally releasing the sinister smile he'd been hiding. Suggestion… such a strong weapon. He'd let Castiel stew for a while longer.

He had plenty of time to spare.

* * *

The demon seemed uninterested in talking. Sam had doubted very much that they could just ask nicely and expect an answer, and she didn't disappoint. He was getting frustrated, though; it had taken another hour to find a demon at all, and now Dean and Cas had been gone for over six hours.

This was taking too long, and all they were getting from this demon were the same taunts and lack of cooperation that they'd come to expect.

"The angel… what angel?" the demon asked innocently, arms flexing but not breaking through the ropes tying her to the chair. "Oh… wait, you mean the one Lucifer's working over right now? That angel? The pathetic one with that scruffy human in tow, right?"

"Where are they?" Sam snarled, advancing with the demon-killing knife. His expression only revealed his rage, but underneath that was a layer of agonized urgency. The thought of Lucifer "working over" his family made it hard for Sam to breathe through the terror. They didn't have _time_ for the demon's games.

"Mmm, sorry, can't say," the demon said with a little giggle, leaning back in her chair. "But I can't _wait_ until my boss is through with them! He's gonna _break_ your little angel, and I just hope I'm here to see it when your precious angel comes and kills _you_."

"Castiel isn't going to kill us," Terriel retorted, rummaging through Martin's desk drawers for something. The demon just shrugged, flashing them a smile.

"Sure, ok. Except, when he ends up agreeing to fight for Lucifer – and he will, when Lucifer's through with him – I'm pretty sure that's the _first_ thing he'll be ordered to do. Well, after he wastes Dean Winchester, of course. So, if I were you? I'd start running."

Sam wasn't going to let the demon see how much the boasting disturbed him. He was positive Cas would hold out. If the angels hadn't turned him after nine separate attempts (more than twice what any other angel suffered through) then Lucifer wasn't going to turn him in just a few hours.

No, what disturbed him was what his brother and Cas might be going through, in Lucifer's attempt.

"He won't be turned. Castiel is a good angel," Terry countered, finding a blank piece of paper and a pencil and bringing it over to the little table he'd set up in front of the devil's trap. The demon just smirked, eyes narrowing.

"Funny… so was Jareb."

It was a struggle to keep a straight face and not reveal his fear, and Sam could feel his face paling slightly at the demon's point. Cas would hold out, though. But what about Dean? The demon made it sound like Lucifer was only interested in Cas, which made Dean… extraneous. That thought was bad enough.

Worse, though, was the idea that maybe the devil would use Dean against Cas. It was terrifyingly obvious that the Winchesters were Cas's weak points. If Lucifer decided to exploit that fact, then Dean didn't stand a chance, and Cas would be put in a terrible situation. Sam's blood ran cold, hands sweating as he balled them into fists and glared at the demon.

"I'm gonna ask you one more time," he growled with cold fury. "Where. Are. Dean and Cas. You can answer _me_ … or you can answer _him_." Sam jerked his head towards Terriel, who was sitting impassively, not looking particularly threatening. The demon looked between them with a face of incredulity, before giving Sam a pained look.

"You're kidding, right? I'm s'posed to be scared of a house-broken angel?"

"Alright, Terry, she's all yours." Sam turned and walked a few paces back, letting the angel have the floor. He didn't know what Terriel was up to, but his friend had assured him that he could get the demon to talk.

The demon was clearly less than impressed, eyes flipping back to black as she yawned widely. "Wake me up when it's over," it drawled snidely, though the angel didn't seem particularly offended.

"Do you know what I did as an angel of Heaven?" Terriel asked, his tone casual as he sat at the table, still sketching away on the sheet of paper. "I was a sigil craftsman. One of only two. My older sister, my _mentor_ , she was the first. She actually created the devil's trap, like the one you're stuck in now."

"Fascinating," the demon muttered, rolling her black eyes. She jerked at the ropes tying her hands to the chair arms, but no one escaped a knot that Sam had tied.

"It truly is," agreed Terriel, either not catching the sarcasm or not caring. "You know, all created things are really just masses of energy with physical form. If you know how to harness and direct that energy, with the sigils, you can do… well, really almost anything. It doesn't require angel grace – even Sam and Dean can draw the sigils. All it takes is knowing the right way to direct the energy."

"Uh huh. Is this your plan? _Bore_ me into telling you where your precious angel and his human are? Why don't you just sit there and play with your fancy designs, and stop thinking you can scare me!"

Terriel ignored the question, holding up the paper. On it were a devil's trap and a banishing sigil. "That's why circles are often used in any symbol meant to _contain_ or restrain something. It catches the energy and holds it. But a broken circle is an amplifier, as the energy resonates inside the circle and then escapes back out through the break, magnified," he explained, for all the world like he was giving a lecture on sigil-crafting.

Sam was actually kind of interested, in spite of himself.

"Every shape in a sigil is really just directing the flow of energy somehow. The curves, the sharper edges, it's a construct, you see. The banishing sigil, for instance; in this form, it does nothing. You can only activate it by _pushing_ your hand into it, to use your own energy as a physical force to _push_ away the energy of whatever you've contained. The devil's trap; it only affects demons, because these symbols on the outside of the pentacle are _hooks_ that snag exactly into the resonating energy that every demon – and only a demon – gives off."

The demon sighed, rolling her eyes again as she looked towards Sam. "Ok, I give in," she said in a deadpan. "Just kill me now. Anything to not have to sit here and listen to this. That's just cruel and unusual punishment."

Terriel chuckled, but Sam heard no humor in it. The hunter watched silently as Terry ripped the paper carefully to pieces, then pulled another sheet in towards him. The pencil was already sliding across the smooth surface, as the angel casually said,

"Most of the angels weren't very interested, either. My sister taught them the sigils, but they only wanted to know _what_ they could do, and had very little time for _how_ they were doing it. But I was fascinated. She taught me everything she knew. You know, there's a saying here among the humans: Knowledge is power."

"Yeah, can we _please_ get to the point?" the demon snapped in growing frustration. "The answer is _no_ , I'm not telling you shit!"

"It's true, knowledge _is_ power. See, the other angels, they can use the sigils that have already been developed," Terriel growled over her, and his voice was getting less informative and more furious. "But they can't create any new ones now, because they don't _really_ understand how it works. They can't even modify the old ones, really. But I have that knowledge… so I have that power. For example…"

With two bold strokes, Terriel finished his devil's trap, before looking up and meeting the demon's eyes squarely. The gaze was cold, merciless, and Sam didn't pity the demon at all.

"For example," Terriel snarled. "If I were to add just a few shapes to this sigil, I could direct your energy to start ripping itself apart and regenerating. Over and over, for as long as the sigil remains intact. You would be torn to _shreds_ but still not die, unable to maintain a form long enough to even fight back or escape before you're _ripped_ apart again, _never_ ending. Four strokes, that's all it would take, and I could leave you in the worst agony you've ever experienced – _forever_."

The demon fell silent now, glaring at Terriel with an expression of suspicion. It looked like it wasn't quite sure whether or not to believe him, and even Sam wasn't sure what to think. He'd never heard of sigils doing that, but on the other hand, Terriel had created a new sigil to help Cas escape from Zachariah, too.

The angel strode forward, picking up the can of spray paint from where Sam had left it, and finished in a deadly voice, "So, tell me where they are… or don't tell me where they are… I don't really care. I'm just going to sit here and "play with my fancy designs", and you'll end up telling me anyway, just to make it stop."

With a sneer – a much more uncertain one than before – the demon decided, "Right, I know a bluff when I see one. You're bluffing."

"Bluffing?" There was a hint of confusion in Terriel's rumbling voice, obviously not quite certain what a "bluff" was. This seemed to amuse the demon, as it snickered.

"Yeah, genius, _bluffing_! Pretending you're gonna do something to scare the other guy into talking, that sort of thing. Lying. You know?"

Sam thought about stepping in. If Terry _was_ bluffing, and the demon called his bluff, they would lose ground. That was something they couldn't afford; it was something Dean and Cas couldn't afford. He moved towards the angel, but then stopped when the lights flickered suddenly, a sign of Terriel's lingering rage.

"Lying? You mean, _can_ I really create a sigil that could do what I said? Castiel is my _brother_ ," he growled in a deep, barely controlled voice. "Dean is my friend. No… I am not "bluffing". But I invite you to test that theory, demon." He took another step forward, and Sam was suddenly glad the angel was on _their_ side, when he hissed, "In fact… I would _welcome_ it."

Sam was pretty confident that Terry was not, in fact, bluffing.

Apparently, the demon was getting the same impression, because she studied Terriel for a moment before rolling her eyes and snorting, trying to keep her game face on. "Yeah, ok, don't get your panties in a twist, Feathers. I hope you _do_ find the angel and his human zookeeper. Then you can _watch_ them both break! They're in Detroit."

"Where?" Sam growled, fists tightening again. His heart clenched painfully at the idea of his family breaking. He had to reach them before that happened. The sense of urgency Sam felt was increasing by the second, and he just wanted to be on the move. _Now_.

"What, you want the _address_?" Again, the demon rolled her eyes, but recited the street and number of the house where they'd been instructed to take their prisoners to. It _sounded_ legit, but there was still the possibility that they were being lied to. The demon must have seen Sam's skepticism, because she snapped, "Why would I lie? I _want_ you to get caught, so sending you right into the lion's den works out just fine for me!"

"I believe it's telling the truth," Terry agreed, turning around and pulling Sam a step away. "Sam, it's right. Going right to that address would be suicide unless we come up with a plan first. If Lucifer is there _himself_ , then this just became much harder."

Right, because they'd never had to worry about "much harder" before. Sam's brow furrowed as he glared at his friend. "I don't care if it just became _impossible!"_ he exploded. "They're my _family_ and I'm going after them!"

Terriel drew himself up, his own eyes flashing as he returned, "So am _I,_ Sam! I'm merely pointing out that we need to do this carefully! The devil is not so easy to sneak past, and we won't be much assistance if we're captured ourselves!"

This was true, of course, and Sam relented, face smoothing as he closed his eyes with a sigh. It was true, the fact that Lucifer was there in person was a setback, but one that he'd been mentally preparing himself for.

"Right, well, this has been fun. Now let me go!" the demon snapped as it wriggled in the ropes that bound it. "I told you what you wanted, let me outta here!"

Both Sam and Terry turned to it at the same time, glaring at the evil creature who was riding around in the innocent girl. Sam shook his head, snorting. "What?! I never said we were gonna let you go," he angrily pointed out.

"What?!"

"Terry. Do the honors."

"WAIT! Wait, you have to let me go! I told you where your friends are, I-"

The demon was cut off, looking up in horror as Terriel stepped forward with the coldest eyes it would ever see. The angel held up the spray paint he still held, and growled dangerously,

"The girl you're riding around in, the one you _killed_ … her name was Lydia. She'd just graduated college, and she couldn't wait to start her life."

"…What? I don't care!"

The angel's eyes narrowed even more, and he nodded. "Exactly."

Leaning over, he made four swift figures right in the middle of the pentacle holding the demon; four strokes, four new signs to add to the sigil, and the effect was immediate.

Terriel _must_ have been blocking the sound of the screams from leaving the room, Sam thought as he watched with wide eyes, or the police would have been there in seconds. He'd never seen anything like it – the demon was just screaming, shrieking, _writhing_ in the chair as enormous gashes covered its body with no apparent cause. The wounds glowed with a fierce, red-hot light, until the demon was more gaping, burning holes than it was flesh.

But it didn't die. The wounds knitted themselves back together, while new gashes were forming. The screams continued, ripping through the otherwise still air as Sam watched on stonily. There was no pity to be found here, no mercy for the demon as it was ripped apart, again and again, in the worst agony of its existence. It screamed, and it screamed, and it screamed… probably like Lydia had screamed inside her own mind when she was taken over by the demon in the first place, before her life was snuffed out.

No… there was no pity here.

Finally, Terriel stepped forward again. His angel blade dropped from his sleeve into his hand, and he slammed it down into the floor inside the devil's trap. There was a sound like thunder, and the demon _exploded_.

Sam blinked, wiping a bit of refuse from his sleeve with an expression of revulsion. Oh God, what the _hell_?! He was covered in the demon's remains, and he wiped his mouth quickly. No, that was even _worse_ , his hands were covered, too! The hunter gagged, spitting disgustedly. He looked around them, at the floor covered in so much blood and guts that the sigil was only partially visible. He looked up at Terry, who was breathing heavily in anger.

"So… definitely not bluffing."


	12. The Voice That Echoes Loudest

Staying awake was getting harder. Dean gritted his teeth against the pain, but all that did was make his head throb. He knew he ought to be thinking of a way out of this, yet he was completely occupied with thoughts of how the _hell_ Cas was going to deal with this. So far, the angel was acting like he'd already given up, but Dean refused to accept that.

If only they could get out of the circle of fire… but Cas would be killed instantly, and Dean couldn't even move to sit up, much less jump over the flames.

Sam was coming for them, though. Sam would know they were missing by now, and he would find a way to get them out. Sammy was always doing clever things like that… he'd get them out… When there was nothing else to trust in, he could still trust in Sam...

...Dean's eyes drifted closed again, confidence in his brother causing him to relax, dangerously. He had to stay awake, though, if he was going to survive. It was so damn hard, but he managed to wrestle himself back to awareness. He couldn't afford to slip away.

Castiel was sitting beside him, hovering close, but carefully making no contact, obviously putting all of his remaining energy into staying out of a flashback that might cause him to kill the hunter much faster than his injuries would. The struggle to stay in reality, surrounded as they were by a whole _host_ of triggers, was clearly taking its toll on the exhausted angel.

That was _without_ Dean making it worse. Dean felt guilty as hell; he'd been jolted awake not long ago, forcing his eyes back open, only to see Cas leaning over him with anxious panic clear on his face.

He hadn't meant to do it, Dean had _never_ meant to do it, but his immediate, reflexive action had been to pull away with a choked gasp of fear, disoriented and startled.

The hunter was _still_ kicking himself furiously, and Cas hadn't said a word ever since. Not a single word.

Great. The angel thought Dean was scared of him now, which was clearly just going to multiply the guilt Cas already felt, and now it was Dean's fault. Dean was pissed. And the hits just kept coming – Jareb had just walked back through the door.

"Castiel, still here?" the other angel taunted, coming to stand in front of the flames with his arms crossed and a nasty expression on his face. "Lucifer says you're still refusing to see the light. _He_ thinks you have potential… I think you're just a _coward_. I don't know what he sees in you. If you really gave a damn, you would have jumped at the chance to help me _end_ this."

The angel paused here, apparently waiting for Castiel to say something. Whether he was expecting an agreement or a denial, Dean didn't know and didn't care. What he cared about was that Cas was completely silent, not even looking up at his tormenter.

Fine. Dean would answer _for_ him, but of course all he could do was choke out a painful, "Cram it… with walnuts… ugly."

"No one asked _you_." Jareb's snarl was accompanied by a blast of power, smashing Dean back onto the unforgiving floor. Dean groaned in pain, wincing as another coughing spell overtook him, wracking his tired body. Warm blood trickled down from the corner of his lip, and he closed his eyes and fought to recover his breath.

An audible swish of movement made him pry his eyes back open, though, and Dean silently cheered to see that Cas was on his feet at last. At least it was a _reaction_ , anything but the cold marble statue that was too paralyzed to act.

The angel stood in front of him as a shield, facing Jareb, with fists clenched at his sides. Dean couldn't see his face, but he hoped his friend was giving the other angel his patented icy blue death glare.

Whatever he was doing, Jareb just laughed. "What's this, finding some fight at last?" he jeered. Just as quickly, though, the mirthful expression shifted to a deadly resentment. "So you'd fight for _him_ , but not your own kind? You know, Castiel… I'm done. I'm done trying to reason with you. You just _keep_ proving what you really are – the traitor they always called you!"

But Cas was _not_ a traitor, he was proving how damn loyal he _was_! Dean wanted to protest, to defend his angel who was as good as a brother, but breathing had become a chore that he was only barely managing. Talking was completely out of the question, and Cas didn't seem interested or capable of defending himself – only Dean.

"You're a _mistake_ , Castiel," Jareb's accusing voice spat out. "An aberrancy of our race - a _flaw_. Something clearly went wrong when _you_ were made. You turn on your own kind, just like they turned on _me_ … so I hope you die, as _they_ will die. Goodbye, Castiel. You've earned your fate."

Dean's heart clenched at the depth of insanity embedded in Jareb's fury. He wanted Cas to _fight_ , to _defend_ himself, damn it! But Castiel didn't say a word, as Dean fuzzily watched Jareb turn and start to stalk away. The angel stopped when he reached the door, though, spinning back around for one more parting shot.

"Just so you know… the demons? They don't fear you anymore, Castiel! They _know_ your weakness, and they'll spread the word, until _every_ demon knows that revealing your wings will stop you in your tracks! They'll all know what it reduces you to! You'll never be able to fight a demon again, and where will your precious humans be then?!"

Still no response from Castiel, though Dean was screaming inside. This couldn't be happening! Every demon who'd known about what happened to Cas had been dead, and if they _all_ knew, where would that leave Cas? Why wasn't he _fighting_? The demons _should_ be afraid of him, why wasn't he reminding them of that?! He was a _warrior,_ damn it!

Instead, Cas merely sank down to his knees, shoulders hunched and head bowed. Even without being able to see his face, Dean could see _defeat_ written all over him.

But showing defeat in the face of a half dozen demons was the _worst_ thing he could do. Dean frantically tried to reach out and grab Castiel, fully intending to _shake_ him out of it if need be!

The sudden movement was a mistake, though. Dean couldn't come even close, and the sudden, sharp stab of pure _agony_ in his chest made his eyes shoot open wide.

His _lung_ … oh God, his lung! After trying so hard to hold still, he'd just gone and _punctured_ the damn thing, his broken ribs piercing the vital organ! Oh God, he'd just knocked over the damn hourglass, and he'd be dead within half an hour for sure.

The demons were closing in on the circle, smiling their wide, rapacious grins – they looked greedy, hungry, _eager_ , but Cas didn't seem to be aware of them, or the fact that Dean was now silently dying behind him. The hunter couldn't breathe, curled up with eyes wide, gasping silently as he tried to find _any_ position to lay in that would ease the pain.

His chest! There was too much pressure, like an _elephant_ was sitting on him and pinning him down; there was no way to inhale all the way. His lung had just collapsed, deflated and empty, while the other tried in vain to pick up the slack. The pain was excruciating, but he had to reach Cas, and _make_ him fight, before the demons closed in. Whatever orders Lucifer had given them seemed to be moot.

One of the demons was excitedly reciting the words of the spell – the same one Zachariah had used. Dean's hand was still stretched out towards Cas, still fighting, but his vision was going grey. He heard them laugh, vaguely heard one of them crowing triumphantly that _this_ was all it took to defeat the angel.

He saw the brilliant flash of light, and he saw the unfurling wings, felt the wind brush past his face… he saw Castiel still sitting there, unmoving in defeat.

Then Dean saw nothing more.

* * *

"I didn't _know_ it was warded," Terry grunted as Sam unsuccessfully tried to bite back a smirk. Despite the terrible situation looming over them, he couldn't really _help_ but snicker at his friend's expense.

"You're like those birds that fly into a glass door."

"I _didn't know_ it was _warded_!"

Granted, it wasn't exactly comfortable to be mid-flight and then suddenly bounce off an unseen force and careen to the ground, but Sam was still more amused than he necessarily needed to be. In the face of their danger, though, he needed _something_ to keep him from losing his mind – and it was something Dean would have gotten a kick out of.

Apparently, the house Lucifer was keeping had been warded to prevent any angel from flying in or out.

Of course, Terry hadn't known that before trying to fly in anyway, very like a bird flying into a glass door. At least nothing was bruised except for his pride.

Sam snickered one more time, but the grim reality of what was at stake quickly set in and he looked back up at the house with a frown. "Can you sense him?" he questioned softly, a shiver of fear racing down his spine. He really wanted Lucifer to _not_ be there.

The angel hesitated, not asking who Sam meant. Then, he slowly shook his head. "No…" He sounded uncertain, and Sam wondered if Terriel was having the same thought as him: just because he couldn't sense the devil didn't necessarily mean he wasn't there.

Sam shifted the straps of the backpack he carried, looking around with narrow, wary eyes. He was glad Terriel had cleaned him up from the demon guts, but now he was feeling sick for an entirely different reason: Dean and Cas had been here for far too long, and he couldn't bring himself to imagine what might have happened to them.

"You have the holy oil?" Terriel prodded him yet again. Sam held up the bottle by way of reply, a cotton rag already stuffed into the opening to create a Molotov cocktail. The angel nodded, and reminded him, "Lucifer is an archangel. It won't kill him, but it should repel him for a few minutes at least. If you see him, light it and throw right away, _don't_ give him time to talk. Oh, and… please be careful how you aim. It _will_ kill me."

"Don't worry, I got it."

Leading the way, Sam moved towards the back door. Every sense was on alert, working in overdrive. The hunter felt the hair on the back of his neck rising, but he ignored the crackling fear and set his mind entirely to the task at hand: rescuing his family.

Getting inside was easy, and that made Sam nervous. Perhaps all the demons were still out lying in wait for them; perhaps this was a trap. They met no one on their way inside, and the building seemed empty.

Then they heard the ruckus. It was coming from a door on the left, heavy and dark and slightly ajar. Sam didn't stop to think, didn't wait to strategize. Ready or not, they had to move _now_ , because he was certain that this led to the basement, and he was certain that was where he'd find his wayward brothers.

Sam charged down the stairs with Terriel right behind him. His white knuckled hand clutched the glass bottle of holy oil, the other hand brandishing his demon killing knife. The raucous laughter got louder as they descended, and now the flickering of flames could be seen on the cinderblock walls.

When he reached the bottom landing, Sam's eyes opened wide. His nightmares would be haunted by this. Demons, nearly a dozen of them, were surrounding a ring of holy fire. Dean was curled on the floor, eyes closed and unmoving; it looked like he'd been beaten within an inch of his life, _if_ he was still alive at all. Cas was kneeling, head bowed and wings tucked behind him, staring at the ground with deadened, hollow eyes. Sam could see him flickering in and out of "flashback" mode, surrounded as he was by demons with wings exposed. At least he was still with it enough to try and fight it off... but it was sure to become a losing battle if they didn't act _now_.

"HEY!" He didn't pause, didn't hesitate. He jumped straight into the basement, ready to _annihilate_ them all, to utterly destroy them! Immediately, the demons' rapt attention was torn from their prisoners, whipping around to gape at the unexpected newcomers instead.

Sam would have stampeded right in and slaughtered every single one of them or die trying, but Terry moved first. Sam didn't even know what hit him as he was shoved aside, a billowing wind blowing past him. Then Terry was standing in front of him with his arms raised, yelling.

"Sam! Close your eyes, I'm going to smite them all!"

The effect was immediate. As one body, the group of demons stumbled backwards, scurrying out of the way and tripping over themselves in their mad scramble to escape the angel. "RUN!" one of them bleated, terror tainting its voice. Twelve shrieks of rage and fear echoed in shivering wails against the walls, and then twelve plumes of deep black smoke poured from the bodies which the demons had inhabited.

For a moment, the air was too thick to see through, until the smoky bodies surged forward and out the high window along the upper wall, leaving the basement in the sudden silence. Sam's chest was heaving as he fought to rein in his fury, though he spared a glance and a raised eyebrow for the angel beside him.

"Thought you couldn't smite anymore."

"I can't," Terriel agreed, puffing up slightly in obvious pride. "I was "bluffing". Was that correct?"

"Uh… yeah… I think you got the hang of that one." Damn, he was glad the angel was on their side. But now all of their attention was diverted to Dean and Cas. Castiel hadn't moved, though the mass exodus of the demons seemed to have given him enough time to fight the flashback away; his eyes were still dead, but at least didn't have that terrifying loss of reality glaze. The angel didn't try to get up, just hid his wings again and slumped back down, breathing hard. Dean hadn't moved at _all_ , and Sam's heart was thudding painfully in his chest. Maybe… maybe Dean was just unconscious. He'd been knocked out, that was all.

Because, if Dean was dead, then Sam was dead. So Dean was _alive_.

"When I get my hands on whoever _did_ this to him," Sam vowed, dark and menacing as he hurried forward, "I'm going to _rip_ them apart." His voice was shaking, and he was terrified by Cas's silence. It didn't _look_ like the demons had been close enough to touch him or his vulnerable wings, but who knew what might have happened before they'd gotten there?

Sam was even more terrified when Cas suddenly tensed and shrank away from him. The angel was visibly distressed, raising a shaky hand to grab his forehead, and starting to hyperventilate. But... he didn't have the "flashback look" - this was something else.

What had they _done_ to him? "Terry," Sam called frantically. "I need some help-"

"Oh no, you don't!" another voice roared in outrage. Sam was thrown heavily against the wall, only barely keeping his grip on the Molotov he held. Shit. Jareb had arrived.

"No!" Terriel jumped into the mix, angel blade flashing into his hand. He leaped at Jareb, forcing the rogue angel's attention to shift to him so that Sam was free to run towards Cas and Dean once again. The hunter heard Terry shouting at him to get the two out of there, that he would deal with Jareb.

Sam tore the bag he carried off his back, slinging it around to hastily rip the zipper open. The backpack was stuffed full of as much dirt as he'd been able to fit into it; they had guessed that there might be holy fire involved, and an oil fire couldn't be put out with water.

By now, Castiel was at least _moving_. He'd turned around, gingerly lifting Dean off the ground and climbing to his feet with Dean cradled in his arms like he weighed nothing. The downed hunter still hadn't so much as twitched, and Sam was starting to panic.

"The house is warded against flight," he warned Cas shakily, not wanting him to make the same mistake that Terriel had made. The clashing of blade on blade behind them was becoming more violent; they had to hurry. And why hadn't they seen Lucifer yet? "We need to get out of the building!"

As quickly as he could, the hunter dumped the bag of dirt onto one section of the holy fire, smothering the flames to create a break that Cas could walk through without being instantly incinerated. He could see how tightly the angel was clutching Dean, holding him like he couldn't bear to let go.

 _Please, don't let him be dead… please, don't let him be dead…_ Sam was praying desperately – not to Cas, not to God, just a frantic, sickened plea into the cosmos, as he reached for Cas.

Again, the angel shied away, not looking up at him, and Sam's heart dropped a little more. What had Lucifer _done_ to him?

There would be time to worry about that _after_ they were away from there and Terry had healed Dean – who was NOT dead. Whipping around, Sam shouted, "TERRY! We gotta go!" He saw the angel's eyes shift briefly to him in acknowledgement, though he was still locked in battle with Jareb.

Castiel was already running, Dean cradled against him motionlessly, and Sam was on his heels. There was a crash behind them, and he chanced a look over his shoulder. Terriel had thrown Jareb across the basement into a pile of crates, and was racing after them. "Go!" the angel shouted, waving them on. "I'm right behind you!"

The three dashed up the stairway, Sam pushing ahead to lead the way out the back door. They were almost there… they'd almost made it to freedom… he stretched out his hand, grazed the smooth metal of the doorknob-

"Going somewhere?"

Lucifer.

Sam went cold. As one, he and the two angels whirled around, nearly stumbling in their shock to see Lucifer suddenly standing there without a worry in the world. From the corner of his eye, Sam noticed Cas turning his shoulder to the devil, twisting so that Dean was out of any direct line of fire – as though that would be enough to save him.

His hand was numb; he knew he ought to light the bottle of holy oil and throw it, _now_ , but it felt like he was paralyzed. Fear crept into his heart, and all Sam could think was that if he didn't move fast, his friends, his _family_ , were done for.

"You," he choked out, wide eyes fixed on his adversary. "What did you do to them?!"

Lucifer chuckled and held his hands up with a shrug. "I never laid a hand on them, I give you my word." His smile widened, dark eyes flicking over to a trembling Castiel. "Your angel will tell you all about it, I'm sure."

"What did you _do_!?"

"Sam, Sam, relax." There was a caress in his voice, but also a turbulence, a stormy disorder that frightened the hunter. He wished he could move, but all three of them were just standing there, as though having forgotten how to move at all.

"No!" he yelled. "What did you _do_?!"

Lucifer dropped his hands, another chuckle bursting from his lips like daggers piercing Sam's heart. The hunter shivered, but Lucifer didn't make a move to attack. "Nothing, I promise you I never touched them," he assured Sam in apparent amusement. "You don't have to run off so fast, I have a proposition for you, first."

"The answer's no!"

"Sam, I'm hurt, you haven't even let me tell you what it is."

"I swear, if you've killed him..."

"Of course not," Lucifer assured him, wearing a beguilingly innocent expression. "Do you know how many I've killed in my lifetime?"

"Millions!"

The devil only shook his head, taking a step towards the group with a corrosive smile. "None. I'm not the villain you think I am. I've never actually killed anyone. I don't have to."

"Sam, don't listen to him," Terriel choked out; Sam was certain now that the angels beside him physically couldn't move, or Terry would have attempted to pull him away by now. He remembered what the angel had said about not letting the devil start talking, and he wished he'd already thrown the bottle. The lighter was in his hand, he just needed to focus on lighting the Molotov…

Lucifer's eyes drifted to Terriel, and he raised an eyebrow. "Who are you?" he asked bluntly. "The guard, right?"

"Who, me?" Terriel sounded surprised, and alarmed to be addressed by the devil at all, as he quickly stammered, "I'm… I'm no one."

"Exactly. Don't forget that, _angel_. Now, Sam. I'm sure you're anxious for your brother and friends to get away from here. I'm anxious to have my true vessel. I think we both know what the simplest solution would be, right?"

"The answer is _no_!"

Sam could see nothing but his brother, in his mind. His brother, cold and unmoving, a mass of bruises. The image was a catalyst, throwing him into immediate action. With one swift flick of his thumb, the hunter had lit the cotton stuffed into the glass bottle he held; deftly, he hurled the bottle, watching in grim satisfaction as it shattered against Lucifer.

The devil became a pillar of fire, an inferno that disappeared in a hazy wave of heat with the sound of pained screams echoing in his wake.

It wouldn't hold him for long, but he was _gone_ , and now they needed to be gone, too, before Jareb followed them up the stairs and finished them off. Terry had grabbed Sam's arm now, practically shoving him out the door. He was dragging Cas along, too, who was still carrying Dean like he would never let go.

There was a breath of fresh air as they reached the open night, and then they were flying, guided by Terriel as they disappeared as fast as they could into the star-strewn night.


	13. Is the One You Choose to Feed

"Dean…  _Dean_! Terry, DO SOMETHING!"

Cas could dimly hear Sam's near hysterical cries as he gently laid Dean down on the motel bed. The angel's eyes were distant as he stared down at the hunter – his best friend, the man who had previously called him a brother.

He wouldn't be calling Cas that any more. Sam certainly wouldn't be, once he learned the truth, who had  _really_ been the one to do this to Dean.

The angel was in a daze, standing slack and limp as Terriel pushed his way in and laid a hand on Dean's forehead. In the distance, both of them were calling to Dean loudly, trying to reach his awareness and keep him from crossing over. The hunter wasn't dead – not yet – but if the rescue had been even five minutes later, it would have been too late. Cas knew it would have been too late.

And he'd been able to do nothing to stop it.

Hollow. He was so hollow inside. There was just… nothing.  _He_ had done this. It didn't matter what role Lucifer had played, those had been his own hands that had beaten Dean nearly to death, because he'd been too weak to stop what Lucifer had been doing to him, just as he'd been too weak to stop Zachariah and the demons in the first place. Dean would never forgive him. Sam would never forgive him. He was going to lose the only family he had left, because Castiel  _always_ lost his family… because he was a mistake. An aberrancy. A traitor.

Castiel took a step back, running up against the wall and sinking down it slowly, deadened eyes latched onto Dean. It was taking a long time for Terriel to put the hunter back together, but at least he still had the power to heal him at all.

All Cas could see were Dean's terrified eyes as he'd woken up to see him, Castiel, standing over him. The hunter was frightened of him now, and for good reason. What he must have thought, what he must have feared… Castiel could have born physical pain, but he could no longer stand to be in the Winchesters' presence, and see their frightened eyes, and feel their anger, their suspicion, their accusation… their blame.

All he did was hurt them.

"Cas, who did this?!" Sam was demanding, as Terriel slowly brought Dean back. " _Who_? Was it Lucifer?! Jareb?! When I find him… when I find him, I'm gonna  _kill_ him! And what did he do to  _you_?!  _Cas_! Cas, what  _happened_?! What did they  _do_ to you?!"

Sam cursed again, and Cas turned his head as though he'd been physically struck by the hunter, sitting in a tight ball with his arms wrapped around his knees. They would never forgive him, never want him around. Sam wanted to kill him, how could he live with that? Cas would have already been gone, but he  _had_ to make sure Dean woke up at all.

There. A flicker of movement. A quiet gasp. The sound of bones knitting back together once more, a lung reflated and flooded with fresh oxygen. All the internal leaks silently plugging back up, bringing the bleeding to a halt at last. Castiel pressed back against the wall, trying to make himself as small as possible, as Dean sat up on the bed with a gasp.

"Where's Cas!?" They were the first hoarse words out of his mouth, and any hope the angel might have been harboring shriveled away. Dean must really hate him now, to already be demanding where he was. The hunter could kill him if he wanted, and Cas wouldn't fight; he was already dead inside.

"He's here," Sam assured him, gripping his brother's arm with relief as Terriel stepped back. "Dean, what happened?  _Who did it_?! When I get my hands on them-"

Cas had enough time to see a flair of panic in Dean's eyes, and then the angel was gone. The hunter was alive and well, and that was all Castiel had needed. He  _deserved_ to stay and allow the Winchesters to kill him however they saw fit, but perhaps he really  _was_ a coward. He took wing, and  _flew_.

The ether swallowed him in, his wings gliding effortlessly through. Castiel raced over the Himalayas, faster than light, faster than sound. He careened wildly through the desert of the Sudan, then appeared just as fast in the deepest part of the Mariana Trench. The pressure should have caused Jimmy's body to be obliterated, but such physical laws had no hold over the angel. He cut through the water as freely as if it was air, trying to wash the sins from his soul.

Castiel just kept flying. France. Saturn. Australia. The freezing arctic winds couldn't compare to the cold numbness he felt inside, the emptiness of space couldn't compete with the bottomless well of despair he'd fallen into. Castiel hurtled past the stars, the planets, leaving the galaxy behind and then flying just as quickly through the Bermuda Triangle, then plunging through the electron stream of the Northern Lights.

He didn't even hear the auroral song, the streams of energy singing the joy of all creation as they danced through the atmosphere. The angel had once loved to stop and listen to the aurora's singing, but it was all dead to him now. He just kept flying. Tears streamed down the angel's cheeks, and he only wanted to fly until every part of him was stripped away and he simply ceased to be.

* * *

 

"Damn it, Sammy," Dean sighed, wearily rubbing his face. Sam was staring at him in horror, as was Terriel. Dean could see the crestfallen look on his brother's face, having heard the full story of exactly what had happened.

"I… I didn't know…" Sam sank down onto the bed, his expression wrought with guilt. "Damn it, I just thought… Dean, you  _know_ I didn't mean… oh God…"

Dean sighed again, looking up towards the ceiling with worried eyes as though just by wishing, he could make Cas reappear. There was no way Sam  _could_ have known that Cas would take his words as a threat. "Hey, don't worry, I already had him convinced I was scared of him," he muttered guiltily. "He's not coming back, is he…"

"But this isn't his fault!" protested Sam, a pleading look in his eyes. "I mean, he's  _gotta_ know it was Lucifer! He'd never hurt you on purpose. He  _knows_ we know that! I mean… he knows that, right?"

Well, clearly not. Dean gestured angrily at the room, silently pointing out that Cas  _wasn't there_ , so he  _obviously_ didn't know that. Getting him back was going to be a bitch, especially if he thought they wanted to kill him. He'd already started silently praying, as he knew Sam was doing, too, but he doubted Cas would even be able to hear him until the angel had calmed down a bit.

"And now, the demons know all about the magic shut-Cas-down button," he snapped with helpless frustration. "Jareb  _told_ them the spell, to take him out of the game!"

Sam groaned with dismay, leaning forward to bury his head in his hands, fingers clenching in his long hair. Terriel had been silent so far, but now he uncertainly spoke up.

"Do you think… he will be able to fight anyway?"

"I don't know!" Dean exploded, jumping to his feet and storming over to the amber bottle of whiskey he'd left there the night before. "He  _has_ to! If they know… damn it,  _they'll_  go after  _him_! We have to get him back, get it through his thick skull that we  _need_ him here, and… I don't know, find some way to turn this around!"

"How, Dean?" demanded Sam, looking up hopelessly. "I mean… we've turned some pretty bad stuff around before, but, man… this?"

"Well, what do you suggest?! Give up on him?! Cause I'm telling you right now, Sammy,  _that's_ not an option! I'm not losing any more family members, got that?! Now we  _have_ turned some bad crap around before, and we're gonna do it again, and I'm not gonna take "no" for an answer!"

" _How_?"

"I-" Dean broke off, cursing as he turned away, leaning against the counter with his eyes closed. The hunter took a deep breath, trying to find some semblance of calm, before finishing roughly, "I  _don't know_ , Sammy. I just know we have to. This is Cas we're talking about." His best friend, a brother. Dean wasn't going to lose him now.

The room fell into silence, as Dean began to pray again.  _"Cas… I don't know if you can hear me or not, but we DON'T BLAME YOU. This isn't on you, man. It's on LUCIFER, you gotta know that. Please, Cas, we need you. We're gonna fix this. I PROMISE you… we're gonna fix this."_

There was no reply, of course, but Dean hadn't expected one. Everything was falling apart, and he had no idea how to put it back together again.

* * *

 

After a restless sleep, Dean still didn't have any ideas. Terriel had left to continue the task of trying to watch over the thousands of potential vessels, pointing out that Castiel was more likely to listen to them than to him anyway. He'd urged them to call him the second they needed anything, and then disappeared.

Now, Dean and Sam had pointed the Impala towards South Dakota, heading for Bobby's.

"Hallucinations," Sam muttered again, shaking his head as he stared out the window. Dean nodded, teeth gritted.

"Yeah. Of course, he couldn't have  _mentioned_  this to us, or anything. I'm gonna kick his  _friggin'_ ass for not telling us about it."

"Well, that definitely makes him a Winchester."

Sam kind of had a point, of course… the brothers were bad for stubbornly not sharing these important things, but Dean just gave him a dirty look. He was still trying to think of a way to help his friend, both with the hallucinations and guilt,  _and_ the new problem of the demons who would be after him now. If the demons  _knew_ they could take him down, they would - and Dean had a bad feeling that they wouldn't just kill him, they'd make it long and slow and horrific. They would keep him alive, and God knows what evil things they would do to his wings... Whatever Cas had been hallucinating would likely come true, and  _worse_. Dean was about to panic just  _thinking_ about it, an icy fist clenching around his stomach as it hit him just how incomprehensibly  _broken_  Cas would be if the demons caught him now.

The whole situation was overwhelming, but he did have some glimmers of an idea.

"When I get my hands on Jareb, though…" Dean let the threat hang darkly in the air, eyes narrowed. "If you'd heard him, Sammy…"

"Yeah, I can pretty well imagine. We'll get him, though, Dean. After we get Cas back, of course."

That was assuming this plan was going to work. Cas had taken  _weeks_ to even feel like talking to them again after Zachariah, but Dean didn't care if the angel was chatty – he only cared that he was  _there_. The healing would happen in its own time, but he wasn't letting Cas go through it all alone.

But if anyone could get him to at least come back… Dean had a feeling he knew who it was.

"Deeeeeean!" a tiny, elated voice cried out three hours later as the hunters slammed the car doors and headed towards Bobby's house. "Saaaaaam! Lookit, lookit the fishy! Uncle Bobby took me  _fishing_ , lookit my fishy!" Only, it came out "wookit", and it was pretty damn precious, Dean had to admit.

Even with everything that was going on, Dean and Sam both had to crack a smile as little Zoey dashed across the yard to meet them with her lively enthusiasm. Her arms were outstretched for a hug, ponytails flying and a fish flapping around in one hand as she ran.

"Hey, Zoey!" Dean exclaimed, dropping down to a crouch and opening his arms so the little girl could run into them. The hug only lasted for a second, because she was already pushing him away to shove the fish in Sam's face when he leaned in to greet her.

"Lookit! It's a twout!" she explained proudly, giggling in obvious delight.

"Oh… uh, yeah, it is," Sam agreed with a chuckle, patiently not asking her to stop accidentally whacking him in the face with her "twout".

"Zoey! Where did you go  _now_?! What did I say about- oh, it's you two idjits." Bobby seemed frazzled, and the two hunters had to snicker. They'd probably been hell to look after, themselves, but Zoey was a firecracker. At least there was only one of her, though her energy made up for the difference.

"Well, it looks like you survived." Dean smirked when Bobby rolled his eyes, but the conversation was cut off when Zoey looked around anxiously and asked,

"Where's Mr. Angel? I wanna show him my twout."

Dean and Sam exchanged a quick look, before Dean squatted down in front of Zoey again. "Sweetie, Mr. Angel is in a bit of trouble, actually."

"What?! What happened?!" Bobby immediately demanded, eyes widening. The grizzly old hunter had a soft spot for Cas as much as the boys, and they both knew he would do anything to help, too.

While Sam quietly assured Bobby that he'd fill him in as soon as possible, Dean looked a stricken Zoey in the eye. "Do you wanna help him out?"

"Uh-huh."

"Good, I think he'd like that. Zoey, do you know how to pray?"

"Uh-huh." She nodded solemnly, biting her lip with all her four-year-old anxiety. Dean gave her a small smile, then got to his feet and led her into the house. Bobby and Sam were close behind, moving into the living room so Dean and Zoey could sit on the couch.

"Ok. I need you to call to him. Not with your words," he quickly added when Zoey opened her mouth as though she was just going to yell for him. Dean reached over and tapped her head, explaining, "From here. I need you to pray for Mr. Angel, can you do that?"

Zoey nodded again, then clambered down off the couch to turn around and kneel in front of it. Her hands clasped together, eyes closing.

Dean listened as Sam quietly explained everything that had happened to Bobby, but his focus was on Cas. His own prayers were silently added to Zoey's little voice, hoping against hope that this would work. He didn't understand why exactly the angel had become so attached and protective of Zoey, but he remembered all too clearly the way Cas had acted when he'd left her here in the first place.

 _Something_ must connect them, and he prayed that Zoey would get through to him.

His eyes met Sam's, and they both shared a worried look. This just had to work.

* * *

High up in the mountains, in a cave with a floor covered in icy snow, Castiel sat with his arms wrapped around his knees, head buried. He'd exhausted himself with his frantic, nearly berserk flight through the whole of existence, and now he was left just as empty, just as numb, but without even the energy to lift his head.

The Winchesters had been praying to him for some time, now. He could hear their pleas whenever he wasn't in a flashback or hallucination, and while it didn't  _sound_ like they were going to kill him, they should. He wished they would just be quiet, to leave him alone in the dark where he belonged. Cas couldn't go back there. He would end up hurting them, like he'd hurt Dean. The next time, he might kill one of them.

Castiel could not - would not - bear that. As long as he was around, they were in danger. The angel felt nothing but blackness, emptiness, a dark and terrifying hollow that consumed his mind and his spirit. He could still feel the rage boiling inside him, the rage that had blinded him and caused him to hurt Dean so horribly. He could still remember how good it had felt, how free it had made him, and that terrified him, too. Castiel didn't  _want_ to be that, and he wondered with trembling fear if he was becoming like Jareb.

There was darkness, everywhere...

_"Brothers, no! Please!" God, he was frightened._

_"You're nothing. A fallen, useless, pathetic angel…"_

_"Zachariah, don't do this!"_

_"How many have gotten hurt because of this? Because of you?"_

_"You ARE alone! Look at yourself, really look! Your grace is all but gone, and you've got the stink of demon filth all over you! I'm surprised you can even use those wings to fly, I'm astounded they'll even pass into the ether at all after you LET those demons put their hands all over them!" He hadn't meant to let them do it, he'd just been weak. He was so weak._

Cas rocked back and forth, hands on either side of his head, groaning in agony. It wouldn't stop, he couldn't make the memories leave him alone. He was in and out of flashbacks until he didn't even know anymore which was reality and which was the nightmare. It didn't stop… the imprint was too strong. Evil, once imprinted, could never be scrubbed clean. Was he  _becoming_ evil?

He felt the pain. He felt the darkness. He felt the fear, the evil, the agony. He  _felt_ the screams, felt the blood of Tricia and Dean coating his hands, the blood of everyone he couldn't save or would someday hurt. He felt the black emptiness, coming up to swallow everything that he was and leave in its place a hollow nothing.

_Evil left a mark that could never be erased._

He felt the madness, the hopelessness, the helplessness, the  _warmth_ \- wait… warmth?

_"Mr. Angel? Helloooo! Can you hear me, Mr. Angel?"_

_The pure innocence of a child, a lifetime of hope ahead, the TRUST-_

Castiel gasped, eyes shooting open as his head whipped back and forth frantically. He  _knew_ that voice. Zoey… little Zoey. Where had he just recently heard that voice? Where was she? But no... it was a prayer, that was all.

_"Mr. Angel, will you come home now? I have a fishy! Uncle Bobby said he'd cook it for dinner and I can eat it all up! What? …oh, Dean says to say, he… what? He says it wasn't your fault, an' he really misses you an' wants you to come back. I fink he's really sad, Mr. Angel. He's crying. …What? Yes, you are. ...Yes, you ARE, you have tears right THERE."_

Cas let out a surprised, short laugh which brought tears to his own eyes, listening to the one-sided conversation as Dean was clearly protesting that he was  _not_ crying. The innocence of a child.

But he couldn't go back, he couldn't go "home". He was a danger, and they shouldn't want him around. They should send him as far away from them as he could get, because he was nothing… an aberrancy, defective… a traitor, whose weakness would always hurt those he cared most about. He was something tainted and terrible. Even if  _he_ didn't hurt them, the demons knew how to beat him now. He didn't  _have_ to hurt them, he would just sit there uselessly while his friends died around him, like he had feared from the moment this all started.

The darkness had hold, pulling him back under. He felt despair, loneliness, eternal terror-

- _warmth, safety-_

-evil, weakness-

- _hope, trust, awe, love, innocence, protection…_

Cas was on his feet, gasping for breath. Her little voice kept  _something_  flickering in him, some feeling that was somehow etched into him. It was so small, so quiet against the dark emotions that were burned into his soul, but it was  _there_  and he didn't understand it. But she was calling him, and the Winchesters were calling him. They were calling him "brother", asking him to come home, promising that they were going to take care of this and help him through. It fed the light in his heart that refused to be quenched, the light that fought  _so hard_  to hold off the obliterating darkness.

But he couldn't go home, he had no home.

_"Please come home, Mr. Angel. I MISS you, an' I gotta show you my fishy. It's a twout, an' I caught it all by myself! Please come home?"_

But she would only get hurt.

_Safety, protection, trust…_

In the basement. In his mind.  _That_ was where he'd heard her. The angel could only barely remember, he'd forgotten so quickly because the voice had been so small against the backdrop of evil. But it was impossible; prayers couldn't reach him when he was hallucinating, but he'd heard that voice.

_Amazement, excitement, innocent love. Warmth... hope._

Castiel flew.


	14. There's More Than Evil in This World

"I don't understand!" Jareb roared, his furious voice echoing off the cinderblocks of the now darkened basement. His foot scuffed against the scorched ring of floor where the holy fire had been not long before. "You  _let_ them go, you could have stopped them! You could have  _killed_ that angel traitor and the human who corrupted him!"

Lucifer stood against the wall, arms crossed and leaning at ease. He quirked an eyebrow, seeming unperturbed by Jareb's wrath.

"I could have," he agreed simply, a dark malevolence in his eye that contrasted with the manipulative delight. "Fortunately, I'm more far-sighted than that."

"What does that even mean?!"

With a sigh, Lucifer waved the angel off. "You're useful to me, Jareb, but you lack subtlety. All you want to do is kill, kill, kill… which is, of course, what I wanted from you all along. When it comes to big picture, though, you'd better just leave it to me."

"What does that  _mean_?!"

If Jareb could have breathed fire, he would have been doing so. Every muscle was taut and coiled in his body, fists clenched as his eyes burned like furious coals. Lucifer only laughed, which did nothing to mollify the enraged angel.

"Jareb, Jareb… Castiel is  _broken_. Letting him live will do more good for  _me_ than it will for him. I saw how much pain he was in. Anyone in that much pain has two options. They can deal with it," Lucifer paused there, allowing a mocking look of amusement to cross his face, displaying his doubt that any would choose such a path, "…or, they can turn that pain on everyone else. That's how it works. The trick, my friend, is knowing which wolf to feed."

Jareb was looking doubtful, and Lucifer chuckled, an evil, hissing sound. "Castiel knows how weak he is now," he explained. "And Dean… Dean will go mad trying to get him back, but he'll fail. And while he does, he won't be able to devote all his attention to that precious brother of his, and without Castiel to guard them…"

Again, he chuckled, shadowed face revealing nothing but delight. "Sam will end up falling to me. Dean will lose hope… and Castiel's pain will fester and eat away any semblance of "goodness" or "loyalty", until all he knows is pain and how to inflict it on others. I could have killed him, but then I'd be losing a valuable weapon. Trust me, Jareb."

Still, Jareb seemed unsure. His eyes narrowed, studying the devil, demanding, "But how do you know that's what will happen?"

There was a beat of silence, as Lucifer's own eyes trailed up and down the fallen angel before him – a once proud, loyal soldier of Heaven, who was now murdering vessels in the name of vengeance and retribution. A slow, dark, gleaming smile crossed the devil's face as he hissed across the barren room,

"Let's just say... This is nothing but reruns."

* * *

 

"Cas!" Sam's voice was a gasp, jumping to his feet as the angel appeared in Bobby's living room. He was stunned, staring at his friend in horror as he took in Cas's condition. He'd looked rough before, but now Sam was starting to think they'd reached him only just in time.

They had just seen the angel not two days ago, and already he looked  _gaunt_ , haggard, like he was wasting away. There was a look of half-madness in his eyes, burning not with energy but with fever. His coat and shirt were still ripped from the last time his wings had been manifested; Cas hadn't even tried to put himself back together.

The sight was actually terrifying, and Sam caught Dean's panicked eye.

"Cas, you came back!" His brother sounded anxious and relieved simultaneously. "I wasn't sure you'd hear…"

Dean trailed off as Cas stepped towards Zoey, not looking at either of them. She blinked up at him owlishly, her wide brown eyes crinkling at the corners with delight.

"Mr. Angel!" she cried, dashing forward for a hug. Sam wasn't sure if he should stop her or not, not certain how much Cas would welcome any contact, but he let it go. The angel didn't kneel down for a hug – though perhaps he just didn't realize that was what he was supposed to do, in order to hug a child who only came up to his knee.

Zoey didn't mind, merely wrapped herself around one of the angel's legs like she would never let go. Again, Sam looked to his older brother, noting that Dean also seemed unsure of what to do. Cas just looked startled, and anxious, and so weary that Sam felt exhausted just looking at him.

When the angel spoke, his voice was hoarse and cracked. "How…? How do you keep doing that?" Zoey cocked her head at him, looking curious, as he asked again more insistently, "Just now, how did you do that?"

"Cas." Sam spoke up again, softer this time. Cas half-glanced at him, then quickly looked away, cheeks flaming.

"I…" he started roughly, but couldn't seem to think of anything to say. The angel was starting to breathe heavily again, obviously deeply upset. "I… This was a mistake."

"Cas, don't you  _DARE!_ " Dean quickly shouted, as both Winchesters recognized Cas's I-should-just-go voice. They had only  _finally_ gotten him there, though, after praying for days. "Don't you dare walk out on us now!"

Cas wouldn't look up at him, but he didn't fly off, either. As though trying to buy time, he leaned over and unwound Zoey from his leg, holding her up at arm's length and regarding her intensely. Zoey just giggled, and held up the fish she was still carting around on its line.

"Twout," she announced with clear jubilation to have her fish  _and_ her angel. "I caught it myself!"

"Zoey… how did you do that?" Cas repeated, still sounding shaken and lost. Zoey's eyes crinkled again as she explained,

"I put the wormy on the hook, an' then-"

"No, not the twou- I mean, the  _trout_ … I meant, how did you-" Castiel broke off, giving up while Sam hid a quick smile. Zoey  _must_ have gotten through somehow, but Sam was still unclear on what exactly was going on. He could see that Dean was fidgeting, practically  _bursting_ to talk to Cas, and there was so much that Sam needed to say, too.

Quickly, he moved to take Zoey out of Cas's hands, handing her off to Bobby. "Hey, uh, Zoey… mind if we have a minute alone with Mr. Angel? I bet Bobby would show you how to cook that fish."

"Okay!"

Bobby nodded his understanding at the two, though Cas tensed visibly as he seemed to realize this meant a talk was coming. The angel swallowed hard, looking uncomfortable and even worried as Bobby led Zoey back towards the kitchen. His breaths were audible and shaky, and his gaze was fixed resolutely on the ground.

Dean was already opening his mouth to greet the angel, but paused with a frown when Cas swiftly drew his angel blade from within the recesses of his coat sleeve. For a wild second, Sam thought he was about to use the blade, either on them or himself, but Cas did neither.

Instead, he held it up, balanced across his two palms… extended towards Sam in offering.

"I…" the angel whispered brokenly. "Sam, I know that you… you want to kill whoever hurt your brother." He took a huge breath, eyes squeezing tightly closed before admitting in a barely audible voice, "It… it was me. I won't stop you."

His head drooped, eyes still closed, and the brothers could see him shaking. They traded a horrified look, momentarily stupefied that Cas would even be saying this. Had he come here actually  _believing_ that Sam was going to kill him? The hunter hadn't seen this coming and he silently cursed himself again for having said what he'd said, even though he'd had every reason to assume it had been Lucifer or a demon who had attacked Dean.

Still, the sight of Cas standing there, head bowed in surrender and angel blade extended for Sam to kill him with, broke the young Winchester's heart. He swore quietly, wanting to throw the blade away and pull Cas in for a hug instead. He still wasn't sure if the angel would even be ok with physical contact, though. Instead, he pushed the blade away, shaking his head.

"Damn it, Cas," he managed to choke out in a voice thick with emotion. "No. God,  _no_. I'm not going to  _kill_ you."

"It was me," the angel repeated, sounding despondent. "Sam,  _I_ hurt him-"

"Cas,  _stop_ it! It was  _Lucifer_ , I told you that!" Dean angrily cut him off, stepping forward suddenly, but also stopping short of pulling Cas in. "It wasn't your fault! You thought you were fighting a demon!"

Cas shied away from Dean, though, turning a shoulder as his head remained bowed. Sam sighed, starting to reach for the angel impulsively, then changing his mind again. "Cas, listen, I'm sorry," he apologized sincerely. Cas tensed and looked up at him in confusion. Sam felt his own eyes burning, hating that he'd brought more pain to his friend, even unintentionally. "For saying what I said. If I'd known what had happened, I would have told you right away that of course I didn't want to hurt  _you_ , that I don't blame you."

"You  _should_."

"No, he damn well shouldn't," Dean protested with a trace of anger. "Cas, we  _all_ know it wasn't your fault. Cas…  _Cas_ , will you at least  _look_ at me?!"

"I shouldn't have come back. I'm just going to get you hurt. I… I should go."

"Cas, DAMN IT, the  _least_  you could do is bother enough to stick around!"

The angel froze at that, looking like he'd been stabbed after all. Sam shot Dean a glare, and his brother shrugged guiltily. Anything to keep Cas from flying off again, though Sam was pretty sure there was a better way of doing it than  _that_.

"Fine, then I'll stick around," Cas muttered, but he didn't stay for any more conversation. There was a soft flapping, and Sam knew he'd retreated to his favorite spot at Bobby's – in the heart of the junkyard, in the bed of some old truck where he could lean back and see the sky.

Sam heaved a sigh, turning to raise an eyebrow at his brother. Dean was swearing quietly, muttering under his breath, but they shared a look that said the same thing: at least Cas was  _home_. That was half the battle, just like before.

"So?" Sam quietly asked, and Dean threw his hands up.

"So, I don't even know," he grumbled, turning surly as he typically did when stressed. "I'm glad he's  _here_. We just gotta _keep_ him here now." Dean was silent for a moment, then added in a quieter, more pained voice, "Dude, he wouldn't even look at me. I hate it when he does this. I  _hate_ it."

"I know. Me, too," Sam agreed softly. "Whaddya think? Same as before? I'll talk to him first, get him to open up a bit, then you take over?"

Again, Dean was silent for a moment, before he turned to Sam resolutely and nodded. "Hey, it worked once, why mess with a good system?" he asked sardonically. Then his expression turned serious, and he nodded again. "Yeah, go talk to him. You're better at the whole… touchy feely… stuff. Sentimental hippie."

"I am  _not_ a sentimental hippie!"

Dean waved him off, disappearing towards the other room. He played it off well, but Sam knew his brother was making a beeline straight for the liquor, that he was eaten up with pain from seeing Cas in this condition. Hell, that made two of them.

Trying hard not to think about Cas giving him his angel blade to kill him with, Sam grabbed a water bottle (he was guessing the angel was having a hard time with flashbacks after all this stress) and made his way outside. He wound his way through the rows of old junker cars and empty beer cans until he found the old pickup truck that Cas had taken his refuge in. Sam coughed as he approached, doing his best not to startle the angel.

As it turned out, he needn't have worried. Cas was staring straight ahead, eyes vacant – flashback mode, sure enough.

"Damn it." Sam had figured this was a distinct possibility. Nimble fingers hurriedly unscrewed the bottle's lid, then the hunter sent a splash of the cool water right into Cas's face.

With a splutter and a surprised jump, Castiel was brought quickly back to reality, to Sam's relief. The angel gasped, his head whipping this way and that in disorientation. Sam's heart clenched at the fear he saw.

"You're safe," he soothed, drawing Cas's attention back to him. The angel blinked, unsure, so Sam kept talking. "You're  _home._ It wasn't real.  _This_ is real. You're safe now, and Dean's safe and I'm safe… you were in a flashback."

"…Oh." Cas looked away, but Sam saw his hand dip into the pocket of his trench coat, the way they'd gotten him used to doing. Always check the pockets first… because that was where he kept their note, reassuring him that everything was ok.

Well… maybe everything wasn't ok, but at least they could assure him what was and wasn't real.

"Look, Cas-"

"Sam. I know what you must think of me."

"No, man, you obviously  _don't_ , or you would've  _never_ thought in a million years I woulda taken that blade." Sam watched Cas carefully, but the angel didn't look up. " _Never_. I know I was mad when we found you guys, but I wasn't mad at  _you_. Even if you'd told me right then and there that you'd done it, my  _first_ thought woulda been that someone made you do it,  _that's_ who I was angry at. I know you, Cas. I  _trust_ you."

This only made Cas bow his head again, as he muttered, "Well, you shouldn't. Dean trusted me, too, and look what happened."

Licking his lips, hoping to find the right words, Sam demanded, "Ok, do you seriously think this is the first time something like this has happened? Come on, man. Every time we turn around, there's something putting a spell on us or making us crazy, making us attack each other. Dean's thought I was going to kill him a half dozen times."

"Yes. But he probably thought killing him was all you were going to do."

Sam stopped, confused. Cas's eyes had closed, his hands clenching and relaxing in the material of his trench coat.

"You don't understand," the angel whispered. "I didn't just almost beat him to death. I… I thought he was a demon. There was… there was this voice in the background. Lucifer. He was telling me… all these horrible things to do. To hurt him. I mean…  _really_ hurt him. Barbarically, Sam. To prove I wasn't submissive by... I mean, I  _didn't_ , I swear to you I didn't, but..."

He trailed off, but Sam was quick and understood all too clearly. He couldn't imagine how horrible that must have been for Dean, as tough a guy as Sam had ever known; he couldn't imagine how horrible it must have been for  _Cas_ , when he'd realized who he'd really been attacking. "Oh," he murmured simply, then straightened in alarm as Cas started gasping for breath. "Cas? Cas,  _breathe_. Slow. Slow breaths, come on, man."

"I wasn't really going to," Cas nearly sobbed, still breathing alarmingly fast and erratic, heading for a full blown panic attack if Sam couldn't get him to calm down. The angel's eyes searched Sam's pleadingly, repeating, "I never would have. I just wanted to scare him, I thought he was a demon, but... but it worked, he  _was_ scared, he thought I was going to- and I can't... I can't forget how he looked at me... Sam, he'll never forgive me!"

"Cas. Look. Dean forgave you for  _everything_ , and so have I. You're our  _brother_ , there's nothing we wouldn't forgive you for, especially when it wasn't even your fault. You need to  _breathe_ ," Sam told him in alarm, before remembering that technically, that wasn't true. Cas tried anyway, closing his eyes and leaning forward with a groan as he ran his hands through his hair. Sam was desperate to comfort his best friend, setting one hand on Cas's shoulder even though the angel cringed slightly at the touch.

"You don't understand," Cas whispered again. "The rage... it did feel good, Sam. I shouldn't feel like that, I... what if I'm turning evil? I'm supposed to be an angel, I don't... I don't  _want_ to be evil... Sam, I..."

Shit, Castiel sounded as lost as Sam had  _ever_ heard, but at the same time, Sam had to blink and straighten slightly. "Well... Cas, I mean, if there's one thing I  _can_ relate to, you know? I  _am_ the boy with the demon blood. Look, man, you're not turning evil. All that rage you felt? Sure, I know it feels good, and- and  _powerful_ , but you made your choice, Cas. And you didn't choose the rage. You stopped yourself, that's what matters."

Did Sam dare believe that any of this was getting through? He thought he felt a little bit of tension ease out of the angel's rigid form, but it was difficult to say. He fell quiet, letting Cas have a minute until he was ready to speak.

"But it wasn't just me. Something else helped me stop." Now, Cas did look up, but there was the same strange light of confusion in his troubled eyes. Sam waited a moment, before prompting him,

"What?"

"I don't know…" Castiel twisted around, looking towards the house uncertainly, then he looked back down at the ground. "When we were in that basement… and then again, just now when you were calling me… I- I thought I felt…"

"…you thought you felt what?"

"…Zoey."

Huh? Sam blinked, not expecting that. "What, she was praying to you in the basement, too?"

"No, that's just it. It wasn't a prayer, I... I can't hear prayers when I'm… hallucinating. I wasn't  _hearing_ her, it was like I  _felt_ her there. It doesn't make  _sense_. Why did I  _feel_  her, but not you and Dean? I'm closer-  _was_ closer... to you and... and Dean..." He faltered slightly, and Sam firmly corrected him,

" _Are_ closer to me and Dean."

Cas didn't respond or argue, just frowned and muttered, "It wasn't a prayer, it was something completely different. It was just… it was-"

But it was obvious that Cas didn't know  _what_ "it" was. Sam was at a loss, not sure how to help or even what to ask. Cas was murmuring to himself now, still looking slightly feverish, as he whispered, "I need to talk to Zoey. I need to find out how she's doing it."

"Doing  _what_?"

His question reached nothing but empty air, though, as Cas had already evaporated from view.

* * *

 

Castiel flew straight into the kitchen, startling its three occupants. He could see Dean out of the corner of his eye, but quickly turned so that he couldn't. The angel knew Dean wanted to talk to him, but he just wasn't feeling brave enough for that just yet.

Sam was certainly trying hard to convince him that neither of them were angry with him, and even their prayers had felt genuine, but Cas still didn't dare believe that they would stick with him after what he'd done. Eventually, he would have to muster up the courage to let Dean approach and say anything he might need to, and then Cas might be lucky enough to have the chance to beg him for forgiveness, but not right now. Right now, his attention was zeroed in on the beaming little girl.

"Hi, Mr. Angel!" she piped up enthusiastically. Almost reflexively, Cas shook his head and absently reminded her,

"My name is Castiel."

"Okay. Uncle Bobby's cooking my fishy!"

"How did you do it, Zoey?" Castiel asked, ignoring the continuing fish saga. This was important. " _What_ are you doing?"

Zoey looked around, a little confused, before answering wisely, "Jus' standing here. Mr. Angel, can I see your wings again?"

"It's  _not_ Mr. Angel, and-  _why_  are you so fascinated with my wings?!" He was getting frustrated and his voice started to rise, so desperate for answers that he felt ready to cry. The problem with four year olds, of course, was that their minds were still so far from maturation that it could be hard to get them to think in a linear direction. But Castiel was getting an increasingly strong feeling that whatever was going on, it was  _important_.

He  _knew_ he kept feeling something. Those child-like feelings of warmth and amazement and things that weren't coming from him… they had jostled him enough to free himself from the hallucination, and they'd startled him from the bottomless sea of despair just now. But how was Zoey feeding him those things?! It  _had_ to be from Zoey, it could be from no one else! It was like she and Cas were  _connected_ somehow, but  _how_?

Now, she was just looking at him like he was crazy, her tiny hands on tiny hips as she scolded, "Use your  _inside_  voice, Mr. Angel."

"Cas, what's going on?"

He felt a stab of pain, heart twisting. He couldn't look at Dean yet, couldn't answer him. Castiel grabbed the counter-top, a shaky hand raising to his head, trying to ease the tumultuous chaos that roiled inside him. He felt so out of control. He was helpless…  _shamed, ridiculed. Zachariah stood before him, a sneer on his face-_

_-everything was warm and safe, it would be ok now, because an angel had come to protect her-_

"What  _is_ that!" Castiel cried desperately, wrenched out of the half-formed flashback by the second set of feelings. His eyes met Zoey's, but he could read from one look that she had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, no idea what was going on. Whatever was happening, she wasn't doing it. Where was this connection  _coming_ from?!

"Cas,  _are you ok_?" Dean was getting frantic behind him, and Bobby seemed to be trying to calm him down, but Cas still just watched Zoey.

"So… I can see your wings now?"

"You've always been fascinated," he murmured, shaken. "Ever since the first time you saw them."

_There were bad guys, too, but she was safe now because a real, live angel was in her room, wings spread, like a hero from her cartoons. She was filled with awe, with youthful joy because he was an ANGEL. There were no words, because she was young enough that her mind didn't have to work in words. There were only feelings. Safety. Protection. Warmth. Awe._

They were  _her_ feelings. He was feeling Zoey's feelings, the first time she'd seen him. The first time he'd protected her, fought off the "bad guys" to save her.

The first time- Castiel gasped, eyes widening, staring at the four-year-old as everything became clear at last.

They were the things she'd felt when she saw his wings.

The things she'd been feeling when she ran over to him and grabbed hold of the feathers - when she had touched his wings with her tiny, innocent hands.


	15. This Fight Has Only Just Begun

Zoey had left her own imprint on him.

Just like that. He hadn't even realized it, hadn't had a clue what was going on, but it had been there all along. Cas was still feeling dizzy with the revelation, still staggering under the enormity of what he had finally figured out. The imprint was small, but it was there.

Castiel hadn't believed anything but evil could leave a lasting mark, but Zoey's pure innocence and hope and all the good emotions that were connected to her seemed to have just as much ability to make a permanent impression on his soul. She'd touched his wings, and that little hand-print was all it took. _That_ was the connection they shared.

Sam had been elated, too, when Cas had finally explained it to him... he'd also told the angel that he should really tell Dean about this, too.

So far, though... he hadn't.

The angel knew that Dean wanted to talk to him, and Sam kept assuring him that they  _both_ wanted him to stay, that Dean  _didn't_ hate him, that he should just  _talk_ to Dean. But he couldn't. Castiel just couldn't bring himself to even face the hunter, not after what had happened. The guilt was too overpowering, and he couldn't face that yet. Besides... the flashbacks were still occasionally taking over in spite of Zoey's imprint,  _especially_ when he was left to brood, and what if he hurt Dean again? What if he hurt any of them?

Of course, he assured Sam that he  _would_ talk to Dean. And of course, it was going to have to happen eventually. But it had been three days, and Castiel was still spending all his time alone out in the junkyard – deliberately staying away from Dean.

From the sound of hunter's firm, heavy step coming across the soft ground towards him, though, Cas's time had run out. He closed his eyes briefly, wanting to fly; instead, he stayed where he was, stomach turning over in knots. He had to face this sometime, might as well just have this confrontation now and get it over with.

"Cas, dammit, you can't avoid me forever. We need to talk, and we're doing this right now."

"Dean, I…" Words failed Cas. There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't even begin to figure out where to start. He'd thought and thought about how he could ever even begin to apologize, but… what could he even say? "I don't…"

"You don't know what to say, I know." Castiel looked away, hearing the frustration and impatience in Dean's voice. He didn't argue; he deserved this anger. He shifted on the tailgate of the truck, angling slightly away from Dean. The hunter made another impatient sound.

"Ok, you know what?" Dean snapped. "Don't say anything, then. Just  _listen_ , cause  _I_ got plenty to say."

Here it came. The angel braced himself, taking a deep shaky breath. This was where Dean would tell him he'd thought it over and wanted Cas to leave, that they couldn't be "brothers" after what had happened. Castiel had been expecting this.

" _Screw you_ , Cas. No, before you  _look_ like that, let me  _finish_! How much have we gone through together?! How much have we faced down, and how much have we  _gotten each other through_? I  _told_ you, you're my  _family_ , you son of a bitch! I've stood by you through  _everything_ , and we've faced some damn heavy shit. Have I  _ever_ walked out on you? Have I?"

"No," Castiel whispered, still avoiding eye contact, feeling Dean's anger and pain flooding out. He wouldn't argue, he wouldn't protest…

"No, I haven't. But after all that, you still don't trust me!"

The angel tensed, looking shocked and upset, hearing Dean's words. "I do trust you."

"No! And let me tell you why! You're sitting there, waiting for me to kick you out, it's written all over your face!  _All_ we've been through, and you  _still_  think I'm the kinda guy to just kick your ass to the curb because of  _what_ , a hiccup in the road?!"

"A hiccup in- Dean, if that's some strange way of implying that this wasn't a big deal-"

"You know what's a big friggin' deal, Cas?! Watching the devil  _TORTURE_ my best friend! Watching him _tear you down!_  You know what's a big friggin' deal?! You, not even looking at me! You, with this insane idea that you're  _weak_ , after everything you've gone through and friggin'  _survived_. You, thinking we'd EVER give up on you."

The hunter was shaking now, and Cas was just staring at him, listening with shocked, widened eyes, but Dean was still gathering steam. It seemed that he was unleashing everything he'd been wanting to say for all this time, and Cas couldn't have interrupted now even if he'd wanted to.

"You know what's a  _big friggin' deal?!_ You really  _BELIEVED_ Sam would have  _EVER_ hurt you?! What the  _hell_ , man? Being nice and sympathetic and whatever the hell, that's Sam's deal, but  _I'm_ gonna give you the straight up wake-up call you need!  _Wake up_ , Cas! If you really think  _that's_ who we are, then… then, you don't know shit about us! We're  _right here_! We're here to help you get through this, cause  _that's what families do!_  I don't  _care_ what happened to me back in that basement, cause, reality check:  _I'm friggin' alive!_ "

"Dean-"

"No! Cas, no! When Sammy was possessed by Meg, and  _shot me_ , I didn't friggin' disown him, I got the demon  _out of him_  and  _BROUGHT HIM HOME!_  Now, believe it or not, I  _get it_. You're scared, you don't feel like you're strong enough, you're afraid of letting down the people you love. That's what I live with  _every day_ , so yeah… I know how it feels. But that doesn't mean you just  _give up_. That means you fight _harder_. You're a damn angel, Cas, act like one! Not the douchebags, the angel  _you_ are, and that's the angel who gave up everything to fight for something he believed in."

Cas was still staring at Dean, taken off-guard by the onslaught of the hunter's words. This wasn't what he'd been expecting. This wasn't what he'd been bracing for. Dean stepped forward now, reaching out and grabbing Cas's shoulder firmly in a gesture of support - and proof that Dean wasn't afraid of him - that brought tears to the angel's eyes.

"Cas…" Dean's voice was rough now, the low and gravely way it got when he was on the verge of tears himself. "I'm not losing you. If it's the last God-forsaken thing I do, I'm gonna help you get back on your feet. You're my  _brother_ , you son of a bitch. But don't you give up. Don't you dare, not now. I can't- Cas, you don't understand, I  _can't_ lose you, too. I don't care about what happened in the basement… I care about what happens  _now_."

Blinking, the angel could only stare at Dean, utterly non-plussed. "But, Dean, I… I hurt you. I almost  _killed_ you. And... and I know how much I scared you."

"But here I am, alive and kicking. Of course I was scared, hell I was  _terrified_ , but that's just part of the job! I'm not afraid of  _you_ , I'm afraid of  _losing_ you! It was  _Lucifer's_ fault, Cas. The only reason I held on as hard as I did and stayed alive at all is because of  _you_ , because I couldn't leave you and Sammy... cause you're my family."

Cas's heart leaped in his chest, a faint flutter of hope lifting him slightly. Could he really mean this? Dean's eyes were suspiciously bright and moist, but there was no trace of a lie in their depths. After all this time expecting nothing but scorn and blame, this alone was nearly enough to make the angel collapse with gratitude, and he felt tears start to form in his own eyes as well.

Then, the angel's heart fell again, and he murmured, "But, Dean… you heard Jareb. I can't fight demons anymore, I'd only be putting you in danger. You don't want me going on hunts-"

"The hell I don't! We'll find a way to deal with that, Cas! We just gotta figure something out!"

"Dean, I'm  _weak_!" The words burst forth from the angel, a pit in his stomach to admit the humiliating truth. He'd been brought low so easily, and the demons knew how to defeat him now. He was of absolutely no use – he couldn't heal, couldn't fight demons, and couldn't even keep himself together anymore.

Physically, emotionally, Castiel just felt like he was too weak to even  _be_ an angel, and that shame ran deep. First Zachariah, then the demons, Lucifer, Jareb... he was so easily overpowered.

"Weak?" Dean repeated, eyebrows raising in incredulity. He crossed his arms, glaring at the angel. "Let me tell you what  _I_ saw in that basement. When you wouldn't lift one damn finger to help yourself, you were on your feet in a  _second_  when Jareb went after me."

"Dean…"

"When Lucifer was trying to drag you over to the dark side, you  _stood your ground_. You didn't even consider it. Dude… when Jareb was spouting all of  _his_ bullshit,  _I_ woulda been going nuts wanting to kill him, but you… even  _then_ , you just kept trying to warn him about Lucifer!"

"Dean, Jareb wasn't always like this!" Cas protested, not sure if Dean was criticizing him or not. "I'm not siding with him, he's killing humans, and I will  _stop_ him, but Lucifer has  _poisoned_ him like he tried to poison me-"

"Cas. You're proving my point."

The angel fell silent, watching Dean uncertainly, but the hunter just scoffed, shaking his head as he looked away.

"You know," Dean went on, still looking off into the distance, "you just don't see it. Nine times, Cas."

"What?"

"Nine times. Your own  _brothers_  dragged your ass back to Heaven to  _torture_ you into changing, but you never did. Jareb's trying to  _kill_ you, and you're worried about trying to  _save_ him. God, you're just so… so  _Cas_. After  _everything_ … you're still completely YOU, and call me crazy, Cas, but that's what matters, and that makes you pretty much the toughest badass alive."

The words shot deep into Castiel's heart, and he stared at Dean with his eyes burning even more with un-shed moisture. He had never looked at it that way before. He wasn't sure if he  _believed_ it, necessarily, but… he hadn't looked at it like that.

Emotions were hard. Castiel didn't know what to think, didn't know what to feel, he only knew that it seemed like  _everything_ was piling up on him. The bad feelings, the good feelings, the raw  _emotion_  that he felt was overpowering, and it was pulling him in a hundred different ways. It was too much for one angel, who had spent much of his existence being told not to feel at all. He couldn't handle the sheer volume of emotions coming from every direction.

"Ever since Zachariah," Castiel began haltingly, "I've… I've kept myself together as much as I could. And it was working. I was surviving. But I can't… I can't hold it in forever. I feel like I'm falling apart." Castiel exhaled shakily, then looked up at Dean with a pale, weary face as he finally admitted out loud, "It scares me. I'm falling apart."

"Then, Cas… go ahead and fall. Cause me and Sammy? We're right here… waiting to catch you."

"Dean's right, Cas."

He hadn't known Sam was that close, hadn't known that he was listening. Castiel didn't mind – he was feeling more and more overwhelmed, from  _everything_. Losing his original family… Zachariah's abuse… his failing grace… his powerless inability to heal anyone… Lucifer, the basement… the evil that scarred his soul…

"I second what he said," Sam was going on, as Castiel looked from one to the other with increasingly quick breaths. "You've stood against Heaven and now you've stood against Hell and the devil himself. You were given the same choice as Jareb, but you chose against evil. You survived Zachariah and you survived the demons, and you're damn well gonna survive this, too. You can't be strong forever, Cas. You don't  _have_ to be, cause… that's what we're here for. Just… let go."

It was so tempting, but first there was one last thing that the angel needed to know. His vision had gone so strangely blurry, but he looked in Dean's direction anyway and asked in a voice thick with tears, "Can you… forgive me?"

"Cas. For crying out loud, man, I forgave you as soon as it happened."

He was sincere. They really meant it, all of it. Whether he thought they were right or not, the two hunters still wanted him there, still thought of him as their brother. Castiel had never "let go", he'd never really understood what that even meant. But with Dean and Sam both standing beside him, one still gripping his shoulder tightly as though to raise him from perdition, and the other seating himself on the tailgate close by, the angel finally did "let go".

The dam burst, the walls trying to stoically contain  _everything_ the angel had felt for so long were finally torn asunder.

There were supporting hands on either side, pressing in against him, letting him know they were there. The Winchesters didn't tell him it would be ok, didn't try to soothe him, didn't tell him that everything would magically get better, because Cas didn't need their words... just their presence, and this opportunity he'd never had before.

There were no words spoken at all. Dean didn't even make any remarks about what a "chick-flick" moment it was, though if Castiel had been able to look up, he might have seen it was because there were tears on Dean's cheeks, too.

The other angels would have scorned him for such a show of emotion, for allowing himself to be overcome by them, but Cas didn't care. He had new brothers now, and for the first time in his life, he felt safe enough to let go. He could fall apart; they were there to catch him.

Castiel broke down and sobbed.

* * *

 

It had been a long, exhausting, emotional day, and Dean wondered how angels managed to function without sleep. Generally, he didn't do the whole emotions and touchy-feely crap – that was Sam's bit – but letting Cas fall to pieces and finally let go of all that baggage he'd been carting around made Dean feel lighter, too. But... it was exhausting.

Damn, he was such a softy when it came to taking care of his brothers.

"So she left her imprint, too, huh?" Dean asked quietly, as both he and Cas stood in the doorway of the spare bedroom where Zoey was sleeping.

The angel nodded, watching her with a soft expression on his face that contrasted with the fierce intensity they usually saw. "Yes," he whispered back. "That's what really saved us."

The hunter was willing to go with that theory. He shoved his hands into his pockets, leaning against the doorway and watching over Zoey the way he knew his dad had watched over Sammy and him – on the rare occasions he was actually around to do so. The little girl shifted in her sleep, whimpering slightly in some sort of nightmare, again so similar to little Sammy.

Cas shifted, too, frowning a bit. With his eyes still on Zoey, he murmured, "You know Jareb was still right, though. The demons don't fear me anymore. I'm... I'm a joke. If I go hunt with you, it'd just put you in danger."

"Come on, Cas, you're not a joke. And actually, I've got an idea about that," Dean replied as he rubbed the back of his head. "I gotta figure out some details first, but we'll talk about it tomorrow." He watched Cas for a reaction; as he'd expected, the angel seemed hesitant to get his hopes up, but didn't argue, either. That was something.

Man, the emotional cleansing earlier had done Cas a  _world_ of good. He looked like a new man. Or… angel.

Zoey whimpered again, and Cas closed his eyes for a second before sighing. "She really doesn't like snakes," he explained vaguely. "This one seems to be… well, some sort of snake monster. Her nightmare, I mean."

"Well?" Dean gestured towards the sniffling, sleeping child. "Go save her, then, Mr. Angel."

Castiel gave him a brief glare at the use of the nickname, but then took a step forward. He paused, though, looking back at Dean over his shoulder. "Dean… will you stay for a moment?" he asked, voice uncertain. "I want to try something and I just… I want someone to be here, in case I… in case I don't handle this very well."

"Uh… ok? Handle  _what_ very well?"

The angel didn't answer, just turned back to Zoey and shrugged out of his trench coat and dress shirt. Dean's eyes widened, heart racing as he realized with a flash  _exactly_ what Cas was doing. He couldn't believe it… was he actually…?

The wings shimmered into view, pressing out from the angel's shoulder blades. Majestic white plumage spilled into the room, filling it with a soft sheen that was all the more prominent in the shadowed darkness. With the wingspan alone, in such a small room, it made Cas look like he was three times his usual size. Dean tried not to stare, worried that it would be rude, but after a moment he gave up trying to stop himself.

It was impossible. The wings were too incredible to  _not_ stare at – plus, Dean realized with a thumping heart, this was the first time Cas had  _ever_ willingly unveiled his wings, not under duress, not with fear, not with the no-other-choice to heal them. It was his own choice, his own decision, and it was intentionally done. This was  _huge_!

Dean waited for a second, knowing that Cas wanted him to be there in case this was too much and he was overcome with a flashback, but he noted with pride that the angel was holding strong. Cas stepped towards Zoey, wings still gleaming like a lighthouse through a storm, and gently spoke her name.

"Zoey."

With another whimper and a frightened, sad little sniffle, Zoey shifted around in the bed and murmured, "Mr. Angel… I'm scared…"

"Don't be afraid."

Her brown, tearful eyes blinked open, then widened as she saw the shimmering, soft light that was Castiel. Dean wondered if she thought she was still dreaming.

"Woooooooow…" she whispered, enthralled; her gaze was locked on the wings, resplendent with grace, as Cas moved slowly towards her and sat down on the edge of her bed.

"Nothing's going to hurt you tonight," he murmured, voice low and gravelly but as soothing as a lullaby. Zoey sniffled, then snuggled up closer to the angel, looking for comfort. Castiel took a deep breath and looked quickly over at Dean. The hunter nodded.

"I got your back," Dean whispered, straightening up, ready to move in if he had to, now that he knew what Cas was about to do. The angel nodded back, sparing a second to give Dean a look of intense gratitude and trust before resting back against the headboard.

Then, slowly, he allowed one wing to dip gracefully down. Zoey wiggled around as he slid it underneath her slight frame, then curled around her like a blanket. Sleepily, the little girl snuggled in again, her hand falling into the soft feathers as she breathed out a little sigh of relief and delight. She yawned, already mostly asleep again as she murmured,

"Night, Mr. Angel, I wuv you."

Dean could hear Cas's breath catch, and he felt a lump in his own throat. It was something incredible, something truly astounding to behold – that in the midst of all this evil and barbaric torment, there was this little spark of  _life_  in such a tiny little form… and how that one, tiny, seemingly insignificant little form could hold a force as powerful as this.

There were tears in Cas's eyes as he stared down at the hand disappearing in the feathers of his wing, the girl wrapped up in his angelic protection. He seemed okay, though, under the hunter's watchful eye. Dean knew that Zoey must be embossing her feelings onto the angel's soul even at that moment, and he wondered suddenly what that  _felt_ like.

Apparently, it was enough to momentarily overwhelm the angel, as he whispered hoarsely, "My God, I'd forgotten."

"Forgotten what?" Dean softly asked. Cas closed his eyes, tears leaking down his face; not pained or frightened tears, but pure emotion in crystalline drops.

"What it felt like to have hope like hers."


	16. Find the Strength to Rise Above

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings here except some more head canon, this time in regards to angel blades. :)

The morning sun brought with it a new sense of life and hope, a renewed vigor that Sam could almost taste in the crisp air as he jogged back into Bobby's house from his run. He'd seen Cas and Dean talking the night before, after Cas's emotional breakdown, which had been long overdue. Their angel seemed to be healing as well as Sam could have expected, or even better, and he was relieved. It was clear that breaking down had left Castiel utterly drained; so drained, in fact, that he'd  _slept,_ passed out cold with Zoey wrapped up safely in his wings. It was the most beautiful picture imaginable, but it was also evidence of just how hard this was on Cas, who didn't normally sleep at all.

Still, he was getting better now instead of worse, and that small victory was a precious one.

Now they just needed to find a way to take care of the little demon problem, a problem that he knew Dean had been puzzling particularly hard over. The older hunter was still sitting at the table where Sam had left him when he'd gone out for his run in the first place, working on some kind of drawing.

Sam looked over his brother's shoulder, watching as Dean sketched away with a look of abnormally focused concentration. He whistled, raising his eyebrows.

"Wow… this is your idea for Cas?" he asked, surprised at the quality of the work. "Never knew you were such an artist."

Dean spared him a quick look, then leaned over the page as though embarrassed for anyone to see it.

"Uh…yeah," he muttered. "I don't know, maybe it's a dumb idea-"

"No, Dean…" Sam pulled the piece of paper away, impressed. "I'm actually serious, this is good stuff. Would it work? Have you shown it to Cas?"

Shaking his head, Dean tossed the pencil down and sighed. "No, not yet," he admitted. "But I was thinking, if we had the right stuff…" The hunter trailed off, and Sam realized suddenly that Dean was watching him almost nervously, as though waiting for Sam to laugh. Instead, Sam just sat down heavily, examining the sketch.

"Damn," he muttered. "Dean… you're a genius."

"Whatever," Dean instantly retorted with a snicker, though he appeared relieved. "You're the one who went to Stanford, college boy."

The younger hunter shook his head in amazement, before gesturing to the page. "Yeah, but this didn't come out of a book, this is just you," he pointed out. He looked up, grinning as he handed the paper back. "I always wished I had your smarts, Dean. I mean, you've always been so good with this kinda stuff."

Just one more reason he'd idolized his big brother as a kid.

The words seemed to take Dean aback, making him blink in surprise and straighten up. Sam could see the pride in Dean's quick smile, though, as he covered it with an embarrassed cough and a "Yeah, whatever, bitch."

"Jerk."

"Dean?" Cas asked, stepping uncertainly into the living room with a four year old attached to his leg. He nodded to the paper in front of the hunter. "Is this what you mentioned last night?"

It was impossible to miss the hesitantly hopeful tone, and Sam smiled with relief. If Cas had any hope at all, then he was at least on the mend and wasn't nearly as much of a flight risk. Sam was glad; whatever happened, they needed to stick together on this.

Dean straightened up again at the question, snatching the paper back from Sam and holding it to his chest, as though to keep the angel from seeing it. He nodded but replied,

"First… I need some details from you."

Cas quirked an eyebrow, waiting expectantly, as Zoey tried to climb up his leg with a giggle. "Of course. What do you need to know?"

"I need to know… what are angel blades made of?"

For a moment, even Sam was confused, wondering if Dean was making some kind of joke, but his expression was dead serious. Both Sam and Cas stared at Dean, as the angel hesitantly asked,

"How is that going to help? We already know an angel blade will destroy a demon, and I made a new one after escaping Lucifer."

"Exactly, you just  _made_  a new one, but how? What  _are_ they? I mean, they're not made outta anything I'veever seen on Earth. Where do you get them? What are they made out of?"

"Oh!" Sam exclaimed suddenly, sitting bolt upright in surprise as a light-bulb flashed in his mind. He understood now, and he gasped, "I see…" So  _that_ was Dean's plan! His brother was a genius, a sheer genius!

Castiel clearly didn'tsee, giving Sam a questioning look before answering Dean. "Angel blades are made from the ether," he explained slowly. "In the ethereal plane."

"Ether," Dean repeated with a frown. "What, I thought that was just like… I dunno,  _air_. How do you fly through metal?"

"It isn't metal- well, the angel blade is, but… the ethereal plane doesn't share the same physics as this one," Cas explained, choosing his words carefully as though not quite sure how to describe it, while slipping his blade down from the sleeve of his trench coat to hold out to them. "I guess you could say the ether is… I don't know, a fluid sort of air."

Sam blinked, holding out his hand to accept the angel blade Cas was giving them for inspection. He traded a confused look with Dean; this was solid, unbreakable metal. He didn't see the fluid or the air qualities that Cas was describing.

The angel noticed their dubious looks and quickly went on to explain, "In your plane, when carbon is subjected to enormous pressure, it forms diamond. When the ether is subjected to intensely focused grace, it hardens into a... a grace and metal alloy, I guess. That's why these blades can kill an angel – they're infused with the grace of the angel who crafted it. An angel can't become a soldier until he or she is strong enough to create a blade."

"Oh!" Sam exclaimed once again, another moment of clarity passing over him. "So, the strength of the blade is proportionate to the strength of the angel."

"Yes, precisely. The stronger the angel's grace, the stronger the blade," Cas answered. He sounded pleased that Sam had understood him, whereas Dean just looked baffled.

"Well, I'm glad one of us understands this," the hunter muttered, shaking his head.

"So that's why a normal angel blade won't work against Lucifer," Sam quickly explained. Cas had warned them early on that it wouldn't work, but the younger Winchester hadn't understood exactly  _why_ until now.

Nodding in affirmation, Cas heaved a frustrated sigh. "Even at my strongest, my grace could never compare to his. It would take an archangel's blade to have that kind of power, because  _that_ blade would be infused with an archangel's grace."

Dean nodded, apparently accepting this as the bottom line, before glancing down at his drawing again. "So… can you shape the ether or whatever into…  _anything_?" he asked, and Sam knew this was the crucial question. He looked quickly at Cas, holding his breath.

It was clear that the angel was confused by this line of questioning. His brow furrowed, pondering the matter. "Well… yes, I suppose," he decided. "But why would we want to?"

"Show him," Sam urged, gesturing to the paper. Slowly, Dean held the page out to the angel, asking,

"Could you make something like  _that_ , if I gave you the designs?"

Castiel took the paper, gave the hunters a puzzled look, and then glanced down at the concept that Dean had sketched. Instantly, his eyes widened and the hunters held their breath. Dean's plan hinged on Cas's ability to do this.

"Dean, this… I…" He seemed lost for words, but Sam could  _see_ the sudden light flaring in the angel's eyes, a fierce flare of  _hope_  that lifted Sam's heart. "This would be much more complex than a blade," he whispered, but they could see the wheels turning. "And the amount of grace it would need… I... I don't know if I'm strong enough anymore." His shoulders drooped slightly at this admission, clearly hating his perceived weakness.

Clearing his throat, Dean nodded to Sam, who grinned.

"I've been going through the lore," he told Cas, hurrying to the shelf and pulling out a heavy, leather-bound book with a large silver clasp. "Cas… I found a way to charge you up, at least temporarily. Maybe just enough for you to do this. See, a human soul-"

"Sam,  _no_!"

Sam paused, looking up in surprise at the angel's anxious interruption. Beside him, Dean frowned.

"Dude, all you have to do is barely  _touch_ one of our souls-"

"I know how it works, Dean, and the answer is no." Castiel's face was turning pale, and he shook his head vigorously to back up his refusal. "Do you have _any_ idea how risky it is? Any idea how  _painful_ it would be for you?"

"Uh, yeah, Cas, believe it or not, I did actually do my homework," Dean snapped. Sam quickly put a warning hand on his hot tempered brother's shoulder, jumping in to explain,

"There was a pretty graphic description in here, so we know the risk-"

"I said,  _NO!_ "

Still clinging to his leg, Zoey whimpered slightly at the shouting, so Cas sighed and picked her up. His expression wasn't angry, though; it was full of agony, as he murmured in a quieter tone,

"I won't hurt you. Not again."

Oh… right. Sam winced, feeling bad that he hadn't even considered how Cas would feel about the idea of causing Dean or him any pain, after what had happened. Still, they had both agreed as soon as Sam found the nugget of knowledge: if it ever came down to the wire, they would do it, no hesitating and no questions asked.

"We  _know_ it's gonna hurt," Dean impatiently assured him, waving him off like it was no big deal. "It's not like we're gonna make this a habit, it's just this once so you can get this made-"

"Dean,  _no_. You don't understand, it's not  _just_ the pain it would cause you. If I don't do this verycarefully, and I mean  _VERY_ carefully, I would  _kill_ you, and Sam, and anyone else in the house!"

"Well," Sam spoke up, shrugging as he slammed the book shut again and got to his feet. He unbuttoned his top-most layer, giving the angel better access to his chest. "I guess you'd better do it  _very_ carefully, then."

Castiel gave him a pleading look, shaking his head. "Sam…"

"Use mine first," he urged, knowing that Cas's recent experience with Dean might make him most reluctant to hurt the older Winchester. "If you need a refuel before you're done, you can use Dean's soul. We've already agreed. Look, if you can do this, you'll be able to protect yourself, and  _us_ , and anyone  _else_  who comes along." He let his eyes drift over to Zoey with great significance; it wasn't fighting fair, but it was guaranteed to work, and Sam would do whatever he had to.

"But…" Castiel was clearly distressed, looking from one brother to the other; neither of them backed down, giving him their most determined stares. He sighed in exasperation, demanding, "Can't I get you to see how dangerous this is?!"

Rolling his eyes, Dean snapped back, "You're missing the point. We  _know_ how dangerous this is. We just don't care. I'll take Zoey outside, let me know when you're ready and I'll start some more specific designs."

"But-" Cas called out after Dean, but the hunter had already plucked Zoey away from the angel and disappeared, leaving just Cas and Sam. Sam raised his eyebrows, waiting expectantly; the angel just muttered to himself, then looked down at the sketch Dean had done.

"You get what this would mean, right?" Sam had to ask. "You said yourself that the demons weren't afraid of you anymore. They  _will_ come after you. Cas… this is how you make them remember why they were ever scared of angels in the first place."

"This is going to take a  _lot_ of grace," the angel pointed out. "Sam, this will be excruciating for you. You don't have to do this, I'll find another way. It's not worth it.  _I'm_ not worth it."

"Yeah, actually... you are. You are to us. Cas, we'd diefor you, you really think we wouldn't do  _this_? It's too late, my mind's already made up. Should I sit down?"

There was no talking him out of this, and it seemed like Castiel was unhappily coming to that realization. The angel looked decidedly uncomfortable, but there was absolutely no outmatching the stubbornness of Winchesters. He nodded to Sam, rolling up his sleeve as he approached.

"If I don't do this carefully-"

"Yeah, we're both dead. I trust you, though."

With one more moment of hesitation, Cas exhaled, then advised in his low, gravelly voice, "If there's someplace that you find soothing, you should go there. In your mind."

Sam nodded, and had just enough time to imagine himself with Dean and Cas happy and alive and together, with no Apocalypse hanging over them, when the angel plunged his hand straight into the hunter's chest.

* * *

 

Terriel had been feeling good about things, and that should have been his first clue that things were about to turn sour for him. He'd killed over a dozen demons since parting company with the Winchesters; he'd saved another four potential vessels; he'd spoken with Castiel through their angelic connection, to discover that his brother was healing, and working on some way of overcoming the demons' hold on him.

That had been a few days ago, and Terriel had yet to hear back from Castiel to find out how whatever it was had worked out. Castiel had actually sounded relatively optimistic, though, and that was quite unusual for him.

Yes, things had been going far too well, so of course Terriel was bound to end up with trouble.

This time, trouble had come in the form of an overpowering mass of demons and one recreant angel named Jareb, the coward who had abandoned their true purpose of protecting humanity instead of destroying it.

At least he'd managed to get Darryl Nash and his two month old son out of the mansion in upstate New York before being overwhelmed by the sheer number of demons who piled in on him. Had he been at full strength, Terriel would have easily defeated them, but he  _wasn't_  – which was why he was now standing in a ring of holy fire in Darryl's spacious flagstone living room, glaring stubbornly at his captors.

 _"Castiel,"_ he silently prayed.  _"If you can hear me… I've been captured. I could use some help, brother."_

"Terriel… my jailer," Jareb sneered, stalking forward as Terriel crossed his arms and stood tall. "This time, you won't be escaping so easily."

"Why are you doing this, Jareb?" demanded Terriel, ignoring the taunts. His blood boiled for all the innocent humans who had been cut down because of the treacherous angel, humans who had been punished for crimes they had not committed - vessels whose angels hadn't done their part to  _protect_ them as they were meant to. Terriel wrapped his essence around Jason's sleeping soul tighter, offering a silent promise to his vessel that he wouldn't ever be abandoned. "The humans don't deserve this-"

"I don't  _care_  about the humans!" The shout reverberated through the large, open living room of Darryl Nash's home, the demons surrounding them nudging each other gleefully. "I care about justice! I will make the angels _pay_ for what they've done, to me and others like me! What would you know, Terriel… you were never punished as I was, you were too  _obedient_."

He spat the word out with a sneer, a clear tone of derision and disgust. Terriel could understand that disgust; he himself was ashamed of how long he had blindly obeyed orders without ever questioning the motives, but that didn't matter anymore. Terriel had chosen a different path for himself. Apparently, so had Jareb.

"My loyalty is to our Father's original purpose," he declared, stoically refusing to show his fear. "I  _stopped_ serving the archangels. I saved-"

"Too little, too late," snapped Jareb. "You could have helped  _me_  escape, but you didn't. You handed me over to those torturers. You've been on my list from the beginning, but you were already gone by the time I got to the jail… I should tell you, your replacement is dead. I ripped his grace from his pathetically struggling body, for defying me."

Horror washed over Terriel, and he took a furious step forward – the fiery ring kept him from getting any closer to the murderous angel, and tears of grief burned in Terriel's eyes.

"Why?! Why would you do such a thing?" he cried out. "This ceased to be justice long ago, this is  _murder_!"

"Still you defend them," Jareb sneered. "You're almost as bad as the traitor, Castiel. And speaking of that contaminated abomination of an "angel"… I assume you've already called him. I hope he  _does_  come. The demons will bring him down easily, and I'll finally have my revenge on him, too."

"You underestimate Castiel," the captive angel snarled loyally. Jareb only smirked.

"I think not." Striding over to the Oriental rug in the center of the room, Jareb threw it aside and knelt down. From within his coat pocket, he retrieved a small can of spray paint. Terriel watched, eyes narrowing, as the angel began to spray a complex pattern on the stone floor.

It took only a few seconds for him to recognize what Jareb was drawing, and Terriel again cried out in horror. "Jareb, no!"

"I found this in your notes at the jail when I went to find you, so many months ago," Jareb explained, ignoring Terriel's shouts. "I'm surprised upper management hasn't used this in the past, though perhaps you were at least smart enough not to share it with them."

"Jareb,  _stop._  Any angel who steps into that circle will  _die_!"

"Yes, so I gathered from your notes."

"Jareb!"

Terriel felt sick. The sigil was one he had created but hoped to never use… its sole function was to instantly kill any angel placed inside of it, a merciful, painless execution. With the Oriental rug back in place, Castiel had only to walk over it and he would be obliterated. But the rug was in a direct line between the doorway and the ring where Terriel was being held. If Castiel came to help him, he would be killed by a sigil that Terriel himselfhad created.

He could not allow such a thing, but two demons had just appeared inside the ring with him, their stolen angel blades at his throat as they gripped his arms. Terriel's eyes promised death for the other angel, but there was nothing he could do; he couldn't even smite the demons anymore. Jareb was glaring at him threateningly, as he warned,

"I suggest you keep quiet. Try to warn him, and he won't get the quick, merciful death. I'll give him to the demons instead, and I think we both know what  _they'll_ do to him."

It would be too late, now. Terriel's eyes burned with helpless fury, and he could only hope that he wouldn't be the cause of his only friends' deaths.

* * *

Castiel had never felt this exhausted in his entire existence. He had spent far more grace than he actually possessed, requiring two"recharges" as the Winchesters called it, one from each. When it came to Dean's turn, the angel had nearly backed out, balking at the horrifying memories it brought. It had taken a direct threat from Dean that if Cas  _didn't_ use his soul, he was going to summon Jareb and fight him himself.

The angel hatedhurting the two like that, and he knew they had held back the screams only for his sake. It was over now, though. Most angel blades could be forged in an hour or so; this project had taken two full days, but Castiel was pleased with the end result. He felt like a warrioragain, strong enough to defeat the demons.

"Think it'll work?" Sam asked as he and Dean tried to force water and pie down the angel's throat to "get his strength up".

Cas pushed away the pie, but took a long sip of the water gratefully. "I hope it never has to," he admitted after swallowing. He felt so weary, his eyes falling closed. It would take some time to recuperate, but he  _did_ feel more prepared in the event of a fight with the demons or another angel.

It seemed that he wasn't going to get the chance to relax, though. The prayer was a klaxon in his mind, a distress call from Terriel.

_"Castiel. If you can hear me… I've been captured. I could use some help, brother."_

Cas froze, flooded with dismay and alarm. "Terriel's been captured," he blurted out, interrupting whatever argument the Winchesters had started up. "I have to go."

"Wait, what? No, get back here!" Dean shouted, both of the hunters taken off guard by the sudden, hasty news. Dean reacted quickly, physically launching himself over the couch to grab the angel's arm. "Not without us!"

"Dean-"

"Forget it, Cas," Sam agreed, reaching out and snagging Dean's jacket. Now they were all connected, clearly an attempt to force Cas to take them along if he flew now.

"But there's going to be demons, and I don't know if this is going to work!" snapped Cas, shaking Dean off of him easily. The hunter stubbornly grabbed on again, making Cas sigh in exasperation. "They know how to force my wings out, and if I fall into a flashback…"

Or worse, a hallucination. He wouldn't be able to control himself, what if he hurt one of them? What if he  _killed_  one of them?! Cas's hand drifted to his trench coat pocket, automatically reaching for the note that assured him he was still in reality.

"You idiot, that was the point of doing all this," Dean bluntly pointed out.

"For  _me,_ Dean. I can't risk you two!" Castiel could feel himself starting to panic, remembering the look on Dean's face when the angel had been standing over him, poised for the kill. He remembered all the terror, the darkness, the seductive draw of mindless rage. He remembered his failures, and what it had nearly cost… he couldn't go through that again. He  _couldn't,_ he just  _COULDN'T_! He had  _hurt_ Dean, hurt him terribly, and what if next time, he couldn't stop?!

"Whoa, dude, breathe," Sam spoke up in a soothing, utterly calm voice. "Like I told you. Breathe. Focus. Calm down."

"Hippie," Dean muttered. Castiel tried to breathe slowly, though like Dean, he wasn't sure how much good it would do. He tried to clear his mind, focusing on the young presence in the bedroom upstairs.

_Trust. Safety. She could relax and sleep now, because he would chase her nightmares away. She curled up under his wing, so safe and warm._

He felt her easiness of mind, and his own began to quiet. He felt her trust as physically as he'd felt the evil of the demonic scar he carried, and Castiel latched onto that. The light inside him burned, fed by the good things she brought; the darkness waned. Deep breaths, bringing him clarity, if not necessarily eagerness to jump into this.

But meanwhile, Terriel was in trouble. He couldn't afford to be afraid.

"So, what, you good?" Dean asked with eyebrows raised, forgetting to be patient. Castiel looked up at him, then Sam.

"You know if you come with me, I may hurt you."

"You won't," Sam countered confidently. "We're in this together, Cas. You ready?"

"No," snapped Cas, tense and short-tempered, but then he sighed. He set a hand on either of their shoulders, finishing, "But I won't ever feel ready."

"You've got this," Dean assured him. "Now let's go get Terry and kick some demon ass."


	17. Raise Your Wings as Demons Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No real warnings, just demons being demons.  
> BAMF-Cas arises...

There were demons  _everywhere_.

They had flown straight into a madhouse, overwhelmed within seconds of appearing in Darryl Nash's front foyer. Terriel was nowhere in sight, either farther in the enormous house or taken somewhere else entirely. Castiel couldn't worry about that just yet, though – first there were demons to be taken care of, and they were already losing that battle, and he was so  _tired_.

"Sammy! Special delivery for ya!" Cas heard Dean, relieved to know that they were still holding their own, at least for the moment. He himself was holding strong; every time the voices of his past started to thread through his mind, he felt Zoey's little spark of life chasing it away, a sentinel in his soul.

"Look, it's the feathered freak," one of the demons taunted, the blatant lack of fear or respect twisting Cas's heart. "I hear you're  _so_ much fun to play with… gonna have myself a taste of angel!"

_"So nice we were invited to play with 'im." Violating hands, grabbing his wing, BREAKING it-_

_Hope and shelter, light and happiness, stronger than the memories that haunted him._

Zoey's presence was the one he fed, and it had become the stronger one. Cas darted forward, slashing with a yell; the demon screamed as light poured from his mouth and eyes, then fell over dead.

Already, though, there were two more to take his place. Castiel kept fighting, listening for Dean and Sam's yells so that he knew they were still going. He was dangerously distracted by his worry for them, and his reflexes were dulled  _just_ enough from exhaustion - which was how the demon across from him was able to throw the weighted chain right at him, tightly wrapping around his body before Castiel could react.

His arms were pinned to his sides by the chain, blade uselessly clenched in one hand. Castiel growled in fury, watching as Dean and Sam tried to surge towards him, but were overrun. They both disappeared under a mass of demons, throwing the angel into a frenzy.

"No!" he shouted, struggling with a fearsome yell. He might be fallen, and he might be bone-weary, but he was still stronger than a human. Castiel burst through the chains, shattering the links and leaping forward –

\- but he was already too late.

They had slowed him down just long enough, and now more chains were whipping through the air, weighted at one end so that they looped around his arms. The angel grunted as he felt first one wrist and then the other wind up snared in the demon's chains, wrapping along his arms and trapping him as the demons pulled hard. When he tried to jerk free, it only tightened the loops down.

"Look out!" Sam yelled too late, trying to shake off the demons that pushed him down to sit on the floor, too many gripping him so he couldn't get back up. The angel fought, but there were three demons on the other end of each of the chains. He was trapped, and the bad memories were growing stronger, pressing ominously in.  _Zachariah had chained his hands, too, standing over him, and Castiel knew what was coming..._ but he had good memories, too, and Cas forced his mind back to the feeling of Zoey's youthful innocence and joy. He had to  _fight_ , even if this was the most difficult battle he had ever faced in his life - more difficult than even the battle in Hell because half the demons were in his mind.

"Cas! Cas,  _focus_!" Dean's shout was filled with desperation, and the angel pulled at the chains as hard as he could to try and free himself. The demons were trying to force his arms out wide, and more and more of them were leaping to grab hold of the extended chains and  _pull_.

They were locked in a desperate tug-of-war, but it was one against twenty. "Get him down!" a demon hollered. "Bring the angel down!"

"Get off of him, you son of a bitch!"

"Let him go! Cas, hold on!"

He was getting weaker, Castiel realized with alarm. They wouldn't use regular chains to trap an angel; these were somehow sapping his strength. The longer he struggled, the weaker he would become. His only hope was to stop fighting and pray that Dean's brainchild would do the trick… and that he himself was emotionally strong enough for this.

Taking a deep breath, the angel stopped struggling. All around him, the demons were jeering triumphantly, shouting taunts and threats in the clear belief that he was already giving up. They jerked downwards on the chains, still pulling in opposite directions so that his arms were held apart and he was forced to his knees.

One of the demons who seemed to be in charge swaggered forwards with a smirk, plucking Cas's angel blade from his outstretched hand and tossed it carelessly aside. "Oh, I'm going to enjoy breaking you slowly," the demon hissed, a sneer contorting his evil face. "Never had me a pet angel before. Whaddya think, boys?"

Castiel's heart was hammering in terrible fear as his eyes turned towards Dean and Sam, both being held down in seated positions, pinned by the swarm. They caught his gaze, both solemn and fierce, as they nodded.

_"Focus. You got this."_

_"Make the bastards remember why they oughtta be scared of you."_

Castiel fought against the memories that were pouring in, the terror he'd felt when Zachariah had stood over him, when he'd collected these scars on his soul in the first place. He could feel their corrosive touch, but he could also feel Zoey's hope, her joy and little spark of life. He felt the comfort and peace she'd felt when she'd been wrapped in his wing, the awe she felt in her tiny but brilliantly dazzling heart. He held that in his mind, feeling it hold the flashbacks at bay; Cas allowed his eyes to fall closed. He was ready.

Deep breaths.

"Show me your wings, angel!"

In… and out…

"I want 'im first! No shoving, get in line!"

Focus… calm… this time, he was prepared for them.

"Say the spell, let's get this started!"

"Cas, we're with you. Show 'em what you're made of."

The demons really should have stopped to wonder why the Winchesters were being so calm about this, but they were demons and saw only what they wanted to. The apparent leader began the spell, and Cas took another long, slow breath. The fear was there but he pushed it to the back of his mind, waiting… poised…

Blinding light illuminated the foyer as the spell was finished, and even the demons had to shield their eyes. When they opened them and turned to their captive angel, though… none of them were prepared for what they saw.

Kneeling on the floor, bare arms still spread and wrapped in chains, the angel was now displaying the most amazing pair of wings. But... the gleaming feathers were only barely visible, beneath the silver armor that adorned them in an effulgent, radiant display.

The wings, held in a neutral position, were shielded by the armor that ran across the ridges in a dozen segmented plates to move and bend freely with his wings. The top ridge of armor ran all the way from the joint at the shoulder blades to extend well past the wing tip, ending in a lethal blade at the end.

More plates, small as dragon scales, were joined together from the back joint all the way to the wings' "elbows". They hung down in an armor mesh that covered the covert feathers, protecting a large bulk of the wing in the front and back without impeding him in the slightest. The scaly armor was edged with more angled blades, like bright, sharpened feathers extending past the wings. It wouldn't even stop him from flying, because Cas's wings weren't physical instruments of flight, but a beautiful embodiment of his soul.

The armor was all made of the same angelic alloy as his traditional blade, and it  _burned_ with grace. If ever there had been any doubt that Castiel was a warrior of the Lord, that doubt was laid to rest with one sight of him in his gleaming, armored wings.

"What the…" The demons seemed to have no idea what to do; this wasn't what they had been told would happen. Castiel's eyes were still closed, but he heard them shift back away from him slightly, and their uncertainty gave him a surge of confidence.  _This was going to work!_ They were no longer quite as certain about this as they had been.

Then, Castiel's eyes snapped open, and the demons' courage failed.

"Hold him-" a demon started to cry out in warning, but there was no holding back the magnificent wings; Castiel and the Winchesters had turned them into lethal weapons, which the demons had just unleashed. The great wings unfurled, flaring in a resplendent, terrifying display of power high over his head. There was a pause, a heartbeat of utter silence in the foyer, and then Castiel  _struck_.

The wind  _whistled_  as the angelic metal sliced down with the speed of lightning, shattering the chains like icicles splintering on the ground. Demons were thrown backwards to the floor as the resistance against the chains they were pulling on disappeared. The angel rose to his feet, while demons were frantically trying to scramble back to theirs.

"Go, Cas!" Dean shouted, the demons pinning the two Winchesters down abandoning their positions in mindless fear. The hunter was laughing, while Sam also cheered the angel on. Castiel's face was a shadowed intensity, blue eyes piercing his terrified foes. He felt a burst of energy, racing from his heart to his shoulder blades, the same energy that had subconsciously wrenched his wings to this plane before. Now, that energy flooded the armor, making it flare suddenly in white hot, angelic light.

The breathtaking wings, bladed and burning and deadly and  _terrifying_ , rose once again to slash down like a viper taking its prey. Two demons were impaled on the angelic spikes, screaming in pain as light burst from their bodies. Castiel's eyes narrowed, a snarl rising to his lips, as he jerked the blades from the demons and then whirled.

It was mass panic and hysteria.

The demon leader watched in disbelief as everything fell to pieces. Even in spite of the overwhelming numbers, the demons were now getting demolished. The hunters had both leaped into the melee, slashing and stabbing with rage in their eyes, and the demons who escaped  _them_  were too terrified of the warrior angel in their midst to gather their wits enough to fight. Several tried to flee, but the angel's eyes sparked with furious fire, and he slashed out with his wing in one enormous, horizontal sweep.

Five demons fell to the ground, fully decapitated by the bladed armor on the wings that they themselves had unwisely brought to the physical plane.

"No," the leader gasped, backing up until he hit the wall. Demons were falling all around him, and the original twenty had already been cut in half. Where was the trembling, cowering angel he'd been told to expect?!

The demon gasped again as three more were mowed down. Close by, the damned hunters had sliced through another two panicking demons, bringing the count down to five. The demon felt cold, wanting to run but paralyzed in fear. This wasn't "easy prey", it was every demon's worst nightmare: an angel in all his warrior glory.

The wings whirled and slashed, nothing but a white-silver blur, the bladed tips so sharp that the air  _shrieked_  when the angel attacked. Pressed back to the wall, sinking down like a cowering animal, the demon watched with a petrified gaze as the other four demons tried to make a break for it.

They never made it out the door. The angel's wings flashed, as he spun in a silver dance of death. The demon couldn't even follow the movements with his eyes, the angel was so damned fast. He heard his brethren scream, saw the flashes of light, and when everything came to a standstill once more, there were nineteen bodies on the floor, and one angel with brilliant wingtips dripping in the blood of his enemies. It had taken less than a minute.

Fight or flight finally kicked in. Choking back a sob, the demon leaped back up and dashed for the door, wanting only to get this meat-suit as far away from the vengeful angel as he could possibly go! No, on second thought, screw the meat-suit! He'd find another!

The demon opened his mouth, fully prepared to abandon ship, but the angel was quicker. A firm hand was pressed against his mouth, keeping him from leaving the meat-suit. The demon whimpered in fear and his eyes glistened with tears as he looked up into the most terrifying face he would ever see.

"Attaboy, Cas!" the shorter hunter smirked gleefully. "Man, if you only knew how badass you are…"

Whatever else was said between the hunters and the angel, the demon missed it entirely; he was too busy trying to keep the meat-suit's bladder from leaking all over himself, as he looked up into the blue-eyed face of death. The angel, Castiel, leaned in close to him and the demon sobbed as the tears spilled down his cheeks.

"Don't worry," the angel snarled, squeezing the demon's jaw to hold him in place and dissuade him from trying to smoke out again. "I'm not going to kill you."

"You-you're not?" he feebly sniveled as well as he could with the hard hand at his jaw. His black eyes darted towards the door, then frantically back to the angel, Castiel.

"No." Castiel's voice was like thunder, low and rumbling and full of threat. The demon sobbed slightly, looking again towards the door. The hunters were coming to stand beside him now, too, so lethal and menacing. The demon was only brave when his enemies were helpless and outnumbered. The hand at his jaw squeezed harder, drawing his frightened gaze back to the angel. "I'm allowing you to live, because you're going to take a message to the other demons for me. You're going to tell them  _all_  what I have to say."

"Yes, yes of course," sobbed the demon in trembling relief, concerned only for his own survival. "Anything! Please, please don't kill me, I'll do anything! What- what's the message?"

He cringed, cowering with fear in the harsh grip, as the angel jerked him even closer. The demon was nearly cross-eyed, unable to tear his horrified eyes away from the blue-eyed thunder that held him, with the bladed wings hovering inches from his throat.

When the angel spoke again, it was to growl out the message in one baleful, menacing word:

" _Run_."

* * *

 

Dean wanted nothing more than to stop and tell Cas exactly how proud of him he was. That had been the most fricking bad-ass he'd ever seen the angel - well, it was right up there with the day Cas had ganked Zachariah, of course. When Cas went all "super intense warrior of God" mode, Dean had to admit that he was nothing at  _all_  like a baby in a trench coat.

Frustratingly, there wasn't time to stop and chat; Terriel was still in trouble. Dean and Sam traded a broad grin, nearly bursting at the seams with pride for their angel and how fiercely he had faced down his demons – literally.

"Cas, when this is done," Dean commented with a grin as the trio moved towards the hall, "I'm buying you the biggest piece of pie I can find."

Cas's mouth twitched, but it was clear that he was still too focused to be interested in conversation. "We have to find Terriel," he murmured again as they hurried through the enormous house, his wings brushing against both sides of the hallway. "If Jareb has been seeking vengeance on angels who had a hand in his punishment in Heaven, he'll kill Terriel."

"Not if we find him first," growled Dean. "Damn, this place is huge…"

"Guys, he could be anywhere," Sam agreed worriedly as they passed an office and a music room without another sign of life anywhere. "Hang on, what's through here?"

They passed into a formal dining room, enormous and richly decorated but utterly empty. Dean was starting to get nervous, trading another look with his brother as Cas frowned.

"You gotta be kidding me," Dean grumbled as he surveyed the room and then hurried along. "I mean, he's  _gotta_ know we're here, right? No way he didn't hear that."

"He knows we're here," Cas replied in a low voice. His wings were tucked in against his back, kept close to avoid knocking things over, being corporeal for the moment. Dean was about to suggest that he hide his wings again, but changed his mind. It would be better for Jareb to see this, too, and know that Cas wasn't afraid.

Unless, of course, Jareb had flown the coop already, in which case things looked  _really_ bad for Terry. Dean's eyes narrowed and he picked up the pace, moving with the other two through a kitchen that was way too big and way too clean. The demon knife was clenched in his hand, just in case there were others they hadn't seen yet. So far, though, the place was completely deserted.

"There's always a creepy basement," Dean pointed out, slipping into the next hallway with his back pressed to the wall until he'd made sure it was clear. "Maybe they're in the creepy basement. Right?"

He turned to Cas, but the angel had stopped walking, quickly pulling the two hunters back. Shaking his head quickly, Cas held a finger to his lips and nodded farther up the hall, where the passage took a sharp corner. "No," he breathed out softly in reply to Dean. "He's up there, I can hear him."

The trio fell silent, straining to listen, completely on edge. The humans didn't have as sharp of hearing as Cas, but as they inched farther along the wall towards the corner, Jareb's voice became more clear.

"I want you to  _suffer_ like I suffered, like  _all_ the angels suffered who  _you_ handed over to Heaven!" Jareb was snarling, but there was  _no_ way the Winchesters or Castiel were going to let that happen! They burst around the corner and into the flagstone living room as one, making Jareb swing around in surprise.

"Hey, douchebag!" Dean shouted with an enraged glare. "Get away from him!"

Two demons had remained behind with Jareb, holding onto Terriel with angel blades pressed against his throat so that the slightest movement would end with his death, meaning he couldn't try to struggle free. There was a ring scorched into the stone floor, as though it had at one time been lit with holy fire. That was gone now, though, so that Jareb could stand in front of Terriel.

Dean saw with horror that the blade Jareb carried was dripping with blood, and that there were over a dozen bleeding slashes that he could see on Terriel. It was obvious that Jareb was making deliberately non-fatal wounds, just to prolong the agony. The captive angel didn't make a sound, but he was breathing heavily, eyes closed in obvious pain.

"You're not going to hurt _anyone_ else," snarled Castiel, stepping forward with wings flaring out aggressively so that the bladed edges of the armor fully extended. The demons froze in shock and horror at the sight, wide eyes locked on the armored wings, but Jareb just frowned.

"What is this?" he demanded, eyeing the armor with wary uncertainty. "What have you done? How is this  _possible_?"

"I know some stubborn, inventive humans with more than  _fleeting regard_ ," Castiel snapped back, making Dean flush with pride even in spite of the grave situation. "Now release Terriel and stand down!"

With a smirk, Jareb shoved the demons aside, swiftly stepping behind Terriel with his own blade now to the angel's throat. "Why don't you come over here and take him back, then?"

Cas only made it a single step forward when Terry's eyes snapped open and he shouted in warning, "Don't cross the rug, Castiel!"

Jareb growled furiously, moving too fast for them to have done anything to prevent it; there was a scream of pain, a burst of light, and then Terriel collapsed to the floor. Dean could hear Sam gasp in alarm beside him, and he himself was transfixed in horror.

"NO!" Cas cried, and then he was racing around the rug, straight for Jareb.

"Come on, Sammy!" hissed Dean, tugging his brother around the other side of the rug – who knew if it was an angel trap or just a kill-anything-that-gets-inside sort of situation – and headed for the two demons which were still staring at Cas with obvious fear. Cas could handle Jareb, but Dean wasn't going to let  _these_ two escape.

"Lucifer said… he said the angel would never recover," one of the demons whimpered in a quavering voice, ignoring the two hunters to take a step back away from the angels that had just locked into battle.

Dean's eyes narrowed, knowing fully well that it had been Lucifer's plan all along to push Cas over the edge, to twist him into a mindless monster as he had twisted Jareb; but there was one thing Lucifer hadn't counted on, and that was Cas himself.

"Yeah, well, Lucifer was  _wrong_ ," he snarled, before launching himself forward with the demon-killing knife in hand. The demon never knew what hit him as the blade plunged into his heart, killing him instantly with one last evil shriek.

The demons had no fight in them whatsoever, the hunters wiping them both out easily. Together, they rushed over to Terry's side, kneeling down beside the angel. "Terry?!" Sam called desperately, as Dean suddenly noted with relief that there were no wing-marks scorched into the ground – he was alive, at least for now. "Terry!"

"I'll heal," their friend's choked voice gasped out painfully. The gaping wound seemed to be in his shoulder, too high to have pierced his heart. "It's ok, I'll heal…"

Dean nodded, reaching for Terry's arm, fully intending to pull the angel out of the way of the fight that was going on behind them. He was distracted, though, when Cas hit the wall close by with a hard thud and slid down. "CAS!"

"I still have  _my_ grace!" Jareb was shouting, a wound on his face healing from one of the blades on Cas's wings. "You could have had yours back, Castiel! You could have fought for angels, for  _me_ , but you chose  _these_  insignificant whelps. You did  _nothing_ to help angels like me though you knew what was happening in Heaven! I lost my  _family_ … now I'm going to take yours, too!"

There was nowhere to run, no way to escape. Dean's eyes widened, instinctively reaching for Sam, as Jareb looked straight at  _them_ , raising his hand to smite them into oblivion.

 


	18. You'll Do More Than Just Survive

Castiel had no way to describe what he was feeling. Everything had happened so fast; one moment, he'd been fighting Jareb, and then his opponent had thrown him back into the wall with his stronger grace. Then, the other angel had turned on Dean and Sam, kneeling by Terriel with no way to escape. Jareb had raised his hand, and Castiel had acted without even thinking.

He'd always been one of the fastest angels, and he'd reached his humans before Jareb's power. The next thing he'd known, he was kneeling with his back to Jareb in front of Dean and Sam, who had thrown their hands up in a futile bid to protect themselves. His enormous wings, armored with the impenetrable silver metal of the ether, had wrapped around them instinctively, shielding his best friends and absorbing the blast harmlessly.

But now… the feelings… he couldn't even describe them all.

Cas's eyes opened wide, sightless for a moment as everything hit him, feelings and emotions he'd never expected. It took a moment for comprehension to dawn on him that by blanketing Dean and Sam with the protection of his wings, they had made contact for the first time. It was  _their_ turn to touch his wings, and their essence was making  _their_ mark on his soul.

_Proud, Dean was so damn proud of him. Cas was every bit a warrior, a fighter, the only other living being that they were proud to call their brother. Dean would never be able to fully communicate this, but he wished Cas would know._

_Sam was inspired. Some days, he didn't know how he was supposed to keep holding Lucifer at bay, how he was supposed to fight the evil that was in his very BLOOD, but then he looked at Cas and how tough HE was even now, and Sam wanted to be as strong as him... so he kept carrying on. Cas was just like Dean, and he didn't even know it; he saw the strength in everything but himself. How could Sam possibly deserve two big brothers as incredible as the ones he'd been given?_

_Awed. Dean wanted to punch the hell outta the angel sometimes, cause DAMN he could be a pain in the ass, like family always was, but he was secretly in awe. He'd spent enough time hero-worshipping an absent father; he'd found a new hero in the infuriating, magnificent fallen angel._

_Cas was family and Sam didn't understand why the angel didn't know by now that they didn't give a damn whether he was angel or human. They didn't care if he was blood – he was THEIRS, and if he became fully human, he would still be THEIR human, and they needed him. Not just "any angel". HIM._

_Cas wasn't a victim, he was a fricking badass who'd risen from the ashes of demons and betrayal and hellfire like a damn phoenix. Not weak, but stronger than anything they'd ever met. Not a burden, but a direly needed friend, regardless of whatever baggage he might bring. Not an aberrancy, but one of the only damn angels who was what an angel was even supposed to be. They didn't see scars, they saw proof of battles he had survived._

_Loyalty, family, pride, fierceness, respect, brotherhood – and when they called him a brother, they damn well MEANT it. They knew that Cas no longer knew what he was or where he belonged, but they did: he was Castiel, and he belonged with them, and in the end it was really as simple as that._

Cas's eyes opened, and he released a soft gasp. It had taken less than a second for all of these things to be absorbed into his soul, joining the scars, joining Zoey's own embossed imprint. They all left their lasting marks; the bad and the good, but with the brothers and Zoey working together, Castiel suddenly felt stronger than he had even at the height of his grace as a warrior in Heaven, infused with their confidence and regard for him.

"Cas?" Dean's whisper sounded uncertain, as though he didn't know if he should be apologizing or not for accidentally touching Cas's wings, but the angel just shook his head reassuringly. Everything was going to be alright. He slowly stood back up, amazed, turning around to face a livid Jareb.

"WHY?!" the vengeful angel roared. "Why do you turn on your own kind for  _them_?! How can you care so little for your own race?! You're a  _traitor_  and a coward!"

But Castiel had seen himself as the Winchesters saw him, and he shook his head with calm eyes. "I'm no coward," he said in a strong voice, marveling that he could even say the words. "And I'm not the one _killing_  angels and their vessels, brother."

Jareb was circling, racing forward now with an enraged cry, but Castiel was not afraid. He moved deftly, skillfully, his wings lashing out and batting the other angel's attacks aside like he was swatting flies. _They would never leave Cas behind. Above all the angels, they respected HIM, believed in him. He was a warrior, fierce, proud, and strong._

"Why won't you just  _die_?!" Jareb snarled, trying to find an opening through the flashing wings; no angel had ever used their wings in battle before, and he couldn't get even close to Cas, couldn't fight against a tactic he had never seen.

Cas's eyes narrowed at the question.  _"That's my boy." Dean's face was full of pride and admiration, inexpressible with clumsy words but felt from the heart - his response to Cas's long history of disobedience._ "Because," Castiel replied in a strong voice. "I've never done as I was told. I do what I believe is  _right_ , and I don't believe I'll be dying today."

On the sidelines, Dean and Sam were trading elated looks; Cas could see them from the corner of his eye, and his heart soared higher than he had ever flown, awed by the depth of their loyalty that he'd never felt he deserved. Terriel was smiling, a brother-in-arms, all three of them forming the anchor from which he could fly. They didn't move to interfere. This was his fight to win.

Blades flashed, and Jareb's superior grace matched Cas's superior armaments. They danced around the Oriental rug, neither gaining ground, until Jareb finally managed to slip past the buffeting wings with a shout. Castiel moved quickly, dodging to the side so that the blade just barely grazed his abdomen.

"You won't stop me," sneered Jareb as he grabbed Cas around the throat with one hand, his other hand raising in preparation to stab his opponent at last. "I'll never rest, not until all the vessels are dead. This is _vengeance_  for the angels who've been betrayed! I will bring  _new order_ to Heaven, and those loyal to me!"

_Sam and Dean were doubled over laughing as he stood in a state of shock, dripping with the remains of a can of Beanie Weenies. Sam told him later that Dean rarely laughed like that anymore, that he was good for Dean. Cas had never laughed, as an angel of the Lord, but he had learned to laugh as their friend. Camaraderie. Friendship. Family. Things that were so much more important than vengeance, things that the Winchesters felt so strongly and had given to Cas._

They were his cause, his reason to keep fighting, and the memories and emotions made him strong. Foregoing his weapon completely, Castiel simply punched the other angel in the face, as hard as he could. _Dean taught him to fight like a human, because Dean would be DAMNED before he let Cas walk around feeling like he was weak or useless just because he was falling._ Jareb was knocked back, releasing Cas so the angel could breathe again.

"Jareb,  _listen_ to me. Lucifer is  _playing_ you!" Cas shouted as he backed off, trying to buy enough time for Jareb to just  _listen_. "He's turned you into this! You can still choose to make this right!"

"Lucifer  _freed_ me," Jareb hissed, running in again and ducking under the wings. Cas raised his angel blade just in time, blocking Jareb's wild swing and shifting to the side to keep the fight away from the other three. "He was the only one who listened! He gave me power!"

"No, he corrupted your mind. Brother, you  _have_ to let go of the anger, it's going to  _destroy_ you!"

"My anger makes me  _strong_!"

"Your  _anger_ ," Cas yelled back, "makes you  _blind_!" His wings rose high, and he sliced through the air towards Jareb; not to strike a lethal blow, but to knock him off of his feet. The armored ridge caught the back of Jareb's knees, sending him crashing to the floor. Cas glared intently down at him, but instead of coming in for the kill, he chanced a step back, circling away and out of reach so he could talk. He could _see_ Jareb's pain, and it was a pain that Castiel recognized. What Jareb had become... that could have been him. If Dean and Sam had not been with him...

_Dean and Sam were with him. They believed in him, when he couldn't believe in himself. They'd caught him when he fell; they would always catch him. Because of them, Castiel felt strong, and he was in awe of their faith in something as broken as him - but in their eyes, he somehow wasn't broken at all. Or, perhaps, they were all a little bit broken together, and that made all the difference._

"You could never understand," Jareb spat out, breathing heavily as he pushed himself back up, both the angels circling now.

"Oh, I understand," retorted Castiel. His expression shifted to pained empathy, voice lowering to growl out softly, "I know what it's like. Betrayal… torture… anger. Do you think it isn't  _still_ tempting to give in? I want to  _stop_  the archangels, Jareb, but not like  _this_. Not by killing innocent humans! Brother… I know what they did to you. And I know how it makes you feel, how terrifying it is to be all alone with so much pain. Stop all this. I  _beg_ you, stop. You don't have to be alone-"

" _Lucifer_ was there for me." His voice was nothing but a low hiss, venomous and dark. Castiel couldn't detect any trace of the light that he was convinced must have existed in Jareb at some point. Still, he couldn't give up. Taking a risk, Cas lowered his blade, and extended a hand.

On the sideline, Dean muttered in frustration, but Cas ignored him. Jareb was still his brother, tortured and twisted into this, and he deserved a chance. "When I look at you, I see what  _I_ could have become, too. I know what you suffered," he murmured, intensely focused on the other angel. "I can  _help_ you beat this. I know it's hard… and I'm so sorry for what they-"

"You're sorry."

Cas dropped his hand, fingers tightening around his angel blade warily as he watched Jareb. The other angel was shaking now, shuddering with a violent rage that would never be contained. His voice was dead, but full of thunder, and when he spoke again, it was through teeth clenched so tightly that they nearly cracked.

"You're…  _sorry_?" Jareb spat with tightened jaw, his trembling hands raising into fists. He was burning, Cas saw with horror – not in a physical sense, but in a way that ran so much deeper. His entire essence was on fire, ablaze in a raging holocaust as his fury and pain finally consumed him entirely.

"Jareb-"

"I… don't…  _want…_  your  _pity._ " The angel ground out each word one at a time, spittle flying from his mouth in true insanity. "I want… your  _HEAD!_ "

With a mindless, berserk roar, the fallen angel charged straight at Castiel, clearly intent on killing him. Cas's eyes opened wide in alarm and his hand flew up. "Jareb,  _no_! Watch out!"

It was too late. Jareb was incapable of hearing the warning, incapable of seeing the danger, incapable of rational thought at all. He dashed straight forward – directly over the ornamental rug in the center of the room, which hid the destructive sigil that he had drawn. The instant he stepped foot inside, there was a tremendous noise like an explosion, a white-hot light like pure grace being ripped apart and erupting outwards.

Even Cas had to shield his eyes, all four of the room's remaining occupants ducking their heads behind their arms against the extreme brilliance. When it faded, Castiel slowly lowered his arm, took one look at where Jareb had stood, and closed his eyes with a grieved sigh.

There was nothing remaining but the charred outline of wings blown into the wall that the vengeful angel had been in front of.

Jareb was dead.

There was a moment of silence, then a rustle of movement. Cas felt a hand fall on each of his shoulders in a supportive grip, gently squeezing. He opened his eyes, to see Sam and Dean looking back at him, ever present when he needed them. Dean looked impressed, Sam sympathetic. Terriel was hurriedly expunging the sigil, his own expression disturbed and sorrowful. Slowly, Castiel's wings lowered back to neutral, shimmering out of sight as he did. Jareb was dead, and it was over. Now he was left with so many feelings... some good, some incredible, and some just incredibly sad.

"Cas, that was  _awesome!_ " Dean exclaimed, only to be given a swift kick by Sam. "Ow, dude  _what_?"

"Cas, you ok?" asked Sam quickly. He shot Dean a warning glare, which only made the older hunter roll his eyes.

"Come on, Cas, it had to be done. Don't start getting weepy on me now."

"Dean... you're like, the most insensitive person on the  _planet_."

"What? Seriously, if he hadn't ganked that asshat-"

"Oh my God, you really can't take a hint."

Castiel chuckled softly ( _he hadn't ever really laughed before meeting these humans. Perhaps they WERE corrupting him, as the angels believed. Perhaps he WANTED to be "corrupted")_ and shook his head at the quarrel. He met Terriel's eyes, smiling when the other angel gave him a conspiratorial what-strange-humans-these-are look. This was what it meant to have brothers.

 _"At least it was painless, brother,"_ Terriel told him silently, understanding Castiel's sorrow for Jareb's fate.  _"He won't cause any more misery, and he's been put out of his own."_

In the end, perhaps that was the best they could have done. Cas nodded his gratitude to Terriel, relieved to still have one angel he could trust. Meanwhile, Dean and Sam were still arguing as Cas clasped both their arms, flying them back to Bobby's house - flying them home.

_They just wanted him to come home, truly wanted him. Their sentiments had been genuine all along; he FELT their sincerity, their true desire and need for him to stay, to complete the family they had become._

* * *

 

Lucifer prowled slowly through the doors of the enormous, empty house, hands clasped behind his back as his swift, icy gaze took in every detail. The devil's eyes narrowed as he strolled the halls. He did not smile. Behind him, a demon was quietly whimpering, wringing its hands as its eyes darted nervously around in search of the angel.

"Armor?" Lucifer addressed the demon casually, and it whimpered again, nodding frantically.

"He killed them all," it moaned, trembling in fear and trying to stay close to the devil. "He was so strong… he was too strong for us! He killed them  _all_!"

"Hmm." Lucifer kept walking, but his eyes narrowed even more.

The demon hadn't stopped quaking; Lucifer rolled his eyes. Clearly he shouldn't have sent demons to do an angel's job. Of course, he was betting that Jareb hadn't fared much better. This was an unexpected turn of events.

"So, Castiel," he murmured out loud, sending his angelic voice through space to the fallen angel in question. "It seems I've underestimated you after all."

It made no sense to him. Castiel had been  _broken_ , he'd seen to that himself. How could anyone so full of that much pain ever recover, how could they even survive, let alone  _fight back_? The angel was clearly more resilient than Lucifer had believed possible.

The foyer was littered with the bodies of demons, most with eye sockets empty and bleeding. The icy gaze turned into an outright glare, Lucifer's calm façade falling away in the face of a battle lost. Castiel was not the same angel he'd allowed to escape; that angel had been an empty shell, hollow but for the darkness that Lucifer had been so sure would overtake him.

This angel, the one who had slaughtered the demons sent to destroy him, had been strong and sure but not with the same warped insanity that Lucifer had hoped for – the insanity he'd pushed Jareb into.

"Don't fear,  _brother_ ," Lucifer went on, still speaking to Castiel, knowing the angel could hear him, wherever he was. "You've escaped for now, and your faithful humans with you. No matter… I  _will_  have Sam Winchester, Castiel. You can't stop that. I've already seen how this ends, and he'll come to me eventually. I think it'll happen soon. And I think it'll happen in Detroit. Just remember that."

There was no response, of course, but that was quite alright. Lucifer continued to traverse the abandoned halls, the demon a sniveling shadow behind him, until they came to the living room with the flagstone floor. The devil arched an eyebrow as he took in Jareb's ashes singed into the wall, the obliterated, unreadable sigil that had once been painted on the floor.

"Shame," Lucifer murmured, though without any actual feeling for the dead angel. The corner of his mouth twitched. "Poetically ironic, of course."

"I warned them all," babbled the demon, shrinking back into a corner of the room as it was overcome by fear. "I've passed on the message, like he said to! I told everyone, run! He'll find us, he'll  _kill_ us, he-"

There was a vicious snap, the sound of bones twisting apart and wrenching in half, then the demon fell to the floor. Its sightless eyes stared out in transfixed, permanent horror over its shoulder, head twisted around. Lucifer lowered his hand, rolling his eyes again. Demons.

"I'll see you again someday, Castiel. Mind you take care of my vessel for me."

Well, there was no use waiting around here. There were other matters to attend to, other wolves to feed.

There would  _always_  be wolves to feed.


	19. So Carry On My Wayward Son

Castiel sat on the tailgate of his favorite truck, staring up at the night sky. He wasn't brooding, necessarily, nor worrying; for the moment, he was just  _there_ , enjoying the fact that he was still alive and didn't have the threat of demon attack hanging over his head, and he now had a way to fight against the evil that scarred him. There was a rustle, inaudible to human ears, as he spread his wings out in the ethereal plane to allow the feathers to stretch.

He'd come so far since the night in the hotel, when those wings had first revealed themselves without his intent; Cas didn't feel like the same angel. He'd been doing everything he could just to survive, back then, but now he felt like he was actually doing alright. Castiel had everything he needed, though by human standards he had… well, nothing. He had defeated his demons, though, turning his weakness into a weapon.

"Cas."

The angel turned at the sound of Dean's voice, seeing the Winchesters coming to stand beside him. Dean was carrying a 6-pack of beer. Cas readily accepted the bottle he was handed. The hunters joined him on the tailgate, each of the three sitting in companionable silence for a long moment as they sipped the beer and watched the stars.

It was comfortable, and comforting, to just sit there in each other's presence and drink, though Sam finally broke the silence.

"I'm sorry about Jareb."

Cas sighed, nodding. "So am I."

One of Dean's eyebrows lifted. He turned to Cas with the bottle halfway up to his lips. "You know you did everything you could, right? He destroyed  _himself_."

Castiel knew, but at the same time it was still a tragedy that could have been avoided. "I suppose."

"Cas, you  _heard_ him," Sam murmured as Dean and Cas both took a long sip of beer. "He didn't want your help. You just can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped. You can't. That's not on you."

"I know." And he did, in a way. Cas exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "It's just…" he added, both Dean and Sam pausing to look at him. "That could have been me. Jareb was a good angel. But after what Heaven did to him… he was completely alone. He didn't  _have_ anyone to take him in. He didn't have anyone to catch him, to help him get back on his feet, or to just  _give_ a damn. I just wonder, if not for you two… couldn't  _I_ have turned into the same thing?"

Dean and Sam both nodded in understanding, the three taking another drink, watching the sky some more. They seemed to be mulling over his words, because Dean finally said, "You know… you  _do_ have us, but don't sell yourself short, Cas."

"Dean's right. We might have been there, but we didn't make your choices for you. That was you. You could have chosen to listen to Lucifer instead of us."

"But Jareb didn't have any other voice to choose between," Castiel pointed out. "He had all that pain, but no one to tell him he could be something more than that, like you did for me. No one prayed for him to come back. No one called him their friend or gave him any reason to believe there was something more than just Lucifer's corruption. No one told him how proud they were of him, or..." He trailed off, not going further into everything the boys had shared with him when they'd touched his wings.

None of them had mentioned that experience yet; somehow, it just ran deeper than words. Cas's marvel and undying gratitude couldn't be expressed in some paltry human words like "thank you". What they had added to his soul meant more to him than his own life, the most precious of all his memories, the most treasured of flashbacks that still occasionally surprised him with a supportive affirmation.

"It was still his choice, Cas," Dean reminded him now, though his voice had softened. "Man, I hear you, having support has  _gotta_ make it easier, but you'd been fighting the good fight long before you met us."

"Face it, Cas," Sam finished for his brother. "You and Jareb both came to the same fork in the road, but when it was down to the wire, he went one way and you went the other. Sure, you  _could_ have ended up like him, but you didn't, simple as that. And it's not like you didn't have enough chances to go dark side."

Cas looked between them, then slowly nodded. He was still saddened and shaken by what had happened to Jareb, wishing he could have done more to help the angel, wishing things had been different. But they weren't, and that was that. Jareb had become evil, and he hadn't wanted to be saved. Many others would have been killed if they hadn't stopped him. Suddenly, Cas winced, turning his head slightly and rubbing his temples.

"Cas?" Dean asked in concern, eyebrow quirking up once more.

"On the subject of dark side," muttered Cas. "I believe Lucifer has discovered what happened. He's talking to me." He paused, listening to Lucifer's voice, before quickly shutting him out with a wince. Lucifer's true danger wasn't in his blade or his grace, but in the sinister power of destructive words - for words could destroy what kingdoms had built. "Sam, he truly believes he's going to claim you eventually."

"Well, he's gonna be waiting a long time, then," Sam snorted as Dean muttered dark threats against the devil. "I'm not giving in to him."

"Of course you're not," agreed Dean, eyes sparking with fight and fire. "So Lucifer can just go straight back to hell!"

Castiel couldn't stop the short, surprised laugh, catching Sam and Dean's attention again. They looked at him questioningly, but he could only shake his head. "You two," he murmured in admiration. "Sam… the angels have always been completely wrong about you. I don't know why none of them can see it."

Sam looked surprised, but grateful, at his friend's words. He shrugged and asked, "What do you mean?"

"Your resiliency, Sam. I admire it. You and Dean… you both represent humanity's greatest strength."

"Our charm and good looks?" Dean offered with a smooth smile, making Sam roll his eyes. Castiel just shook his head again, replying,

"No. Your ability to carry on, against all odds. I've watched humans from the beginning, and no matter what gets thrown at you… humans have always just kept going, regardless. No matter what, you don't give up. You adapt, you carry on, more so than any other species. It's… it's quite remarkable, actually. But you two especially, you represent that for all of humankind."

Cas wasn't given to offering praise, and it took Dean and Sam both by surprise. Dean rubbed the back of his head, feeling a bit flushed at the compliment. He didn't know that it was necessarily true, but it was nice to hear.

On the subject of things that might be nice to hear…

"Look, Cas, something I've been meaning to say, ever since the basement," Dean muttered, kicking at the dusty ground awkwardly. He saw a flash of trepidation on Cas's face, and quickly added, "I mean, after Jareb said all that crap about you. You know, you're not broken, and you're not a mistake."

Castiel blinked in surprise, but slowly nodded his appreciation at the remark. Dean wanted more than acknowledgement though, he wanted Cas to believe it as strongly as he himself did.

"Seriously. I mean… I don't even believe in all that crap about "destiny", but one thing I  _do_ know is that me and Sammy were always gonna need an angel on our side, and… I think it was always supposed to be you. Yeah, you're  _different_ , Cas, but your kind of different is exactly what we needed. Not a superpowered archangel douchebag… a regular soldier with enough guts and heart to fight for us even after he'd been tortured nine frickin' times. Call it fate, call it luck, call it  _God_ , I don't even know, but what I do know is that  _you_  were what we needed, and you wouldn't have rebelled to help us if you hadn't always been  _different_."

This was  _such_ a chick-flick moment, but Dean pushed through, managing to look up and meet their angel square in the eye as he finished, "So you aren't a mistake, Cas, and you're not a flaw. You're proof that the man upstairs made at least one angel _exactly_ right."

Dean watched as Cas blinked, taken aback. He stared at the hunter, apparently lost for words, but Dean saw a suspicious looking moisture in the angel's eyes. Dean must have gotten his point across, and now it was time to  _end_ this chick-flick chat before someone started thinking he was going soft. Cas could think on what he'd said on his own time, when Dean wouldn't have to get stuck with the sappiness.

"Anyway, moment's over," he quickly blurted out, making Sam snort in exasperation and Castiel smile fondly. "So, I think that means it's time for a movie night. Come on, Cas, beer and popcorn and The Expendables!"

"The Expendables?" Sam instantly protested. "Really, Dean? I swear, the only thing worse than your taste in music is your taste in movies."

"Oh, and what do  _you_ want to watch, Less Miserables?" Dean shot back, deliberately butchering the pronunciation  _just_ to irritate Sam. Predictably, Sam swiveled towards him and snapped with a perfect bitch-face,

"It's  _Les Miserables!"_

"It's a pansy movie!"

"It's  _art!_ "

"Dude, you're so gay." The argument was pointless, but Cas was smiling, and Sam was snorting in exasperation, and Dean had everything he needed, right there with his strange little family and their broken little pieces. Cas had a long, difficult road to go, but he was finally on his feet again, and Sammy was still holding out against Lucifer, and even though they weren't out of danger - they would  _never_ be out of danger - for at least tonight, everything was ok.

* * *

 

"But I wanna stay with  _you_ , Mr. Angel…"

Zoey's voice was filled to the brim with sadness and disappointment, and her eyes were the same puppy dog expression that had driven Cas to the brink of insanity before. It was so hard to resist ( _God,_ it was hard to resist), but they all knew it had to be done. Zoey was out of danger now – no demon in the world would dare go after her, knowing that Castiel would be keeping an eye out.

She deserved far better than any life they could give her, they all knew that. It was only a matter of time before Nathaniel came to ask her permission to use her as his vessel, the only remaining member of the bloodline, but in the meantime, she could enjoy years more of her life without the demons and monsters that they constantly faced.

Castiel knelt down in front of the little girl, taking her hands and meeting her eyes seriously. "I'm going to take you back to your hometown, Zoey," he explained again. "Your father had a cousin there who can take care of you."

Zoey's lower lip trembled, and tears filled her eyes. She collapsed forward to wrap herself around Cas's neck, sniffling into his shoulder. The two hunters watched, both surprised at how much they were going to miss the little ball of energy.

"Do you think… should you wipe her memory?" Sam asked hesitantly, but Dean answered for Cas.

"No point, she's only four. She won't remember half of this anyway." Besides, the little she  _would_ remember might give her a bit of a leg up when Nathaniel  _did_ come to call.

"Now, Zoey, if you're ever in trouble or need my help… call for me," Castiel insisted, blue eyes revealing how emotional this parting was going to be for him. "Do you remember my name?"

With another sniffle, Zoey wiped her arm across her face to remove the tears, and nodded, replying, "Yeah. Mr. Angel."

Cas looked heavenward and took a breath as Sam and Dean both snickered, but then he snorted softly in laughter and nodded, giving in at last. "That's right, I'm Mr. Angel. If you ever need me, just say a prayer for me to come and I'll be there. Terriel and I will both be watching. Okay?"

"But I wanna stay with  _you_ , and Uncle Bobby, and Sam an' Dean."

"This life isn't for you. Not yet. Just remember, Zoey… you saved my life." Castiel smiled softly, and murmured, "The world's smallest hero."

Another tear dripped down Zoey's cheek, and she huffed in obvious displeasure that she wasn't getting what she wanted – but there was nothing else for it. Wiping her face again, she peeped up at Cas and shyly asked, "Mr. Angel?"

"What, Zoey." The long suffering tone like that of a parent.

"Can I see your wings?"

Of  _course_ she would have to ask that one more time before they left, but Cas didn't protest. Instead, he took a quick breath, then pulled his trench coat and dress shirt off his shoulders enough to allow the glorious wings to shimmer into view, choosing not to materialize the ethereal armor with them this time. Zoey's expression instantly lit up and she beamed with delight.

Castiel didn't pull away when her chubby little hand reached out, stroking the feathers with the same childlike innocence and awe as before. His eyes fell closed, breathing in as her emotions and feelings and _purity_  wove around his soul in dazzling tendrils of light that burned into his being.  _She was so sad to say goodbye; she loved her angel, her protector, her comforter, her light. He was telling her to call him if she was ever in trouble; he wouldn't abandon her, and she trusted him. Trust. Hope. Safety._

"Time to go, Zoey," Cas gently urged her after a long moment, voice gruff to cover up the emotion. She sighed as his wings slipped back into the ethereal plane, and then he stood.

And so, Cas had risen above the demons that haunted him, both within and without. The scars would never go away; scars never did… but that was okay, because being scarred and being broken were two very different things.

Among demons, the story became well known… the story of Castiel, the angel with wings made of swords and steel. Castiel, the fallen angel who chose the humans. Castiel... God's wayward son. The very name made them tremble in fear, and they whispered among themselves that they'd heard he could kill a demon with just a touch of his wings. None would dare try to find him; there was a spell, it was said, that would reveal his wings, and all record of that spell was quickly destroyed. Any who were unfortunate enough to come face to face with the angel and the two hunters who were always at his side prudently heeded the warning of their brethren.

They ran.

There were others who had seen the angel face to face, but the stories of children are written off as dreams and nothing more. If any had listened to the stories, they might have noticed it was always the same: a fearsome man with brilliant wings, an  _angel,_ who saved the children (always the children) from the monsters, both supernatural and human. The children, innocent and awed, always wanted to just reach out and touch those gleaming feathers as soon as the armor disappeared, and he always allowed them to.

Sometimes, he would even let them wrap their tiny arms around him in a grateful hug, and his wings would sweep around to blanket them in comfort and protection.

Sometimes, there would be tears in his eyes, as his defenses were fortified by the pure hope of children: more voices to stand against the scars on his soul. The flashbacks rarely found enough ground among all the positive voices to take hold, and the hallucinations dwindled and then stopped altogether.

And so they carry on.

The battle between light and dark continued every day, both the unending war between the hunters and the monsters as well as the constant struggle that Cas faced within. The imprint of evil couldn't be erased, couldn't be cured – what was done, was done, and couldn't be undone – but it could be overcome and overwhelmed by light.

See, there are two wolves that live in each of us. One is darkness; it is fear, anger, hatred, guilt, vengeance, despair. One is light; it is forgiveness, strength, friendship, family, hope. The two wolves battle daily, and sometimes the fight is very terrible.

But the wolf that wins is the one you feed.

**_Fin_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sometimes, having just one person who's willing to be there and listen and remind you that you're tougher than you think can make all the difference. Yes, inner strength is essential, but a support system can mean everything. Some of you might not have ever heard someone tell you that they believe in you or that you CAN beat this. Consider this as that voice. I'm always a PM away if you need some support, I'm pretty good at non-judgmental listening!


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